W vs O: Hunting 101
by geeves
Summary: Cal and Dean are back and so is Franny who's come looking for Cal when she dissapears. They meet up in New York a few weeks after Sam and Dean find Cal. Fran stumbles on a ghost in her hotel...or is it a tulpa? Sparks are flying again this time with Sam..
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Cal was raging at someone on the phone again… he could hear her clearly even over the radio and the water of the shower he was in the middle of taking. Couldn't say he was surprised. The girl had been stationary for close to two months straight thanks to her self-imposed temporary break from hunting. After an entire year of being on the road six weeks of staying in one place seemed like forever. Add to that it being the middle of winter and the result was one Caitlin O'Sulivan suffering from just a tad bit of cabin fever. Good thing he knew how to deal with it… heh heh.

The song on the radio had changed to a little number by the band 'Air Supply'. Grinning to himself in anticipation of her reaction he reached past the shower curtain and cranked the volume as loudly as he could get it to be sure she heard it…then took a deep breath and started spewing out the lyrics himself at the top of his lungs as he soaped up.

"_Oh…I 'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you _

_I know you were right believing for so long _

_I 'm all out of love, what am I without you? _

_I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong…_"

A loud click and a sudden rush of cold air told him she'd cracked the bathroom door open a bit. He would have heard the padding of her naked feet on the bathroom tile had his voice and the radio not been so loud. Even as he started to rinse himself off he was bracing himself for it….

"_Oh…I 'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you…_"

The shower curtain flew open

"_I know you were right believing for so long_"

Laughing blue eyes took in the sight of the hunter before her clad in nothing but soap and a shower cap belting out one of his least favorite tunes just to make her laugh.

"_I 'm all out of love, what am I without you…"_

"You have _got _to be _kidding _me! Dean Winchester, you are such a tool!" Cal laughed as he leaned over for a big sloppy kiss soaking her clothes in the process. The big goofy grin got wider as he waggled his eyebrows and closed the shower curtain against the cool air from the open door.

"_I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong…_"

Cal stood there, half soaked and grinning widely herself. What on earth had ever possessed her to take off on this guy?

When she turned the music down he poked his head out again and raised a brow at her. "So are you just gonna stand there all morning or you gonna hop in here with me?"

Well now… that was probably the best offer she'd had in quite some time… well, at least since waking up that morning. Too bad she'd have to say no.

"Sorry Winchester…I've got to get changed and head out in a few minutes."

"Oh?" He didn't like what he was hearing. There was something in her voice, in the way she was looking at him that spoke of trouble. Something was bugging her…a lot.

"Yeah…I was thinking… maybe it's time for us to hit the road again…"

"This happen to have anything to do with that call you just got?"

She had his attention now… he was wrapping a towel around himself and pulling her toward the bedroom.

"Oh… you, uh, heard that did you?"

Not that he didn't want to hit the road again… he'd been feeling the burn himself for a couple of days now. But those damned shifty blue eyes, that mildly embarrassed look… yeah, she was definitely trying to hide something.

"Would have been hard not to the way you were shouting. Okay, enough Cal. Spill it. I haven't seen you act this way in months. Not since you tried to hide that cut of yours."

Clad in nothing but jeans and a stern expression he was the picture of intimidation. Ha, it would take more than a look to intimidate this girl.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Her defiance was clear. She was giving him the old "won't back down". Great. Well, he should have expected it. The last two weeks had been nice and quiet. 'Nice and quiet' were two things that just weren't possible around that woman.

"Right. Sure you don't. Okay then, who were you talking to?"

"What, so now you're my mother? I need to tell you who I talk to, where I'm going and who I'm going to see?"

Whoa. Where the hell had _that _little outburst come from?

"It was just a question Cal." Seriously, he was just trying to get to the bottom of this major mood swing of hers. Something was wrong. He could feel straight down to his bones.

"Franny. It was Fran. She's in New York. Apparently somebody told her what city I was in…"

Franny… Fran… why did he know that name?

"Who's Franny?" How the heck did the man expect to pull off that look of pure confusion?

"Don't even try it Dean. You know who Franny is… from the bar back home."

Ah…right. The chick who'd pulled the sawed-off on them when they went in to ask about Cal.

"So, little miss trigger-happy is in New York? What does she want?"

"I don't know. To see me I guess. I think she got scared after you guys showed up looking for me. Says she wants to see for herself that I'm okay… and she's mad as hell that I lied to her about where I was going." Although _why_ she would be was beyond Cal. She hadn't been straight with anyone about her travels except her father… and now the Winchesters.

"Anyway, I had to agree to meet her for coffee. It was the only way to stop her from calling the cops and declaring me a missing person."

Took a lot to surprise Dean Winchester. Guy was cute when he was thrown off like that. Too bad he didn't stay that way long.

"You want me to go along?" he asked puffing out his chest a little.

"Why on earth for?"

"Oh, well… you know." Glint of mischief "To show her you've got a big strong man watching out for you and keeping you in line…"

"Watch yourself Winchester. You might just find yourself out on the balcony to sleep tonight."

"Nah." He pulled her into his arms. "Sammy would take pity on me and let me in when you're not looking."

Well, he had her laughing again. That was a good sign at least… right?

"You better get going She-Ra. That Fran chick's temper is as bad as yours. Wouldn't want you to be late and piss her off on my account. You're a lot prettier without bruises…"

She wasn't looking forward to it… but he was right. Cal hated it when he was right. Scowling she pulled on her jacket and was surprised when he kissed her soundly again. Now, there was the smile he was looking for. It stayed pasted in place as she grabbed her keys and left.

Now, Dean Winchester is a lot of things… and one of them was most definitely curious. Dude would kill to be a fly on the wall at that particular reunion… in fact… he pulled on his own coat and boots too. Things had been too quiet lately anyway. Even if she caught him following her… well the entertainment sure would be worth the excitement.

Hopefully _this time _Fran will have left her shot gun at home.

Two whole weeks had passed since Dean had burst into Cal's apartment. He and Sam had taken over the spare bedroom…or rather Sam and their stuff had...Dean had claimed a corner of Cal's bedroom…among other things…

It was the most natural thing in the world for the boys to settle in and make themselves at home. Sam had to smile at how easily his brother had slipped into domesticity. Oh, he and Cal still argued a lot… especially since she'd started getting stir crazy… but being with her suited him. Finally, Dean was getting the chance to taste 'normal'. Okay, so nothing about Cal and Dean could be considered normal… didn't matter. They were still great for each other.

She was probably the only other person in the world who could fully understand Dean, accept him for who he was and want him because of it rather than in spite of it. Sam's smile got wider. For two people so obviously in love it was funny to see them avoid the word so completely.

As nice as it was to see Dean happy Sam's joy was bittersweet. Often lately thoughts of Jess and what he'd lost had snuck up on him. Would she have accepted him so completely had she known about his past? About the hunting? He never would know for sure.

Funny how he hadn't realized what a comfort Dean's snoring in the other bed was until it wasn't there anymore. Just wasn't the same filtered through the wall. Nights were harder now. He'd spent every last one of them awake and sitting at the computer screen browsing the usual sites… looking for something supernatural… something close by to hunt… something they could all sink their teeth into. Anything to keep his thoughts off the past. It's what he'd been doing when his cell phone had gone of at two in the morning a week earlier.

Private name, unknown number…

_Only you would call me at two in the morning Dad_ he thought to himself as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hey Dad."

Instead of John Winchester's deep gravely voice he was met with a loud, angry and very female voice. "Excuse me? Do I _sound _like a man to you? Jeeze, and Cal said you were the _nice _brother." What? Cal had said _what_ to _who_ now?

"I'm sorry but, um, wrong as I might be _you're _the one who called _me _in the middle of the night… who the hell _is_ this anyway?"

"Well _there's_ a fine how-do-you-do considering how nice I was to you two the last time you were in town. It's Franny… Cal's friend." Oh great! He remembered Franny alright. It might not have been the _first_ time he'd been escorted out of a bar at gunpoint on Dean's account before… but it sure as hell had been the first time it had happened just because of a few polite questions. What had Dean said? _Tread carefully man, this chic is psycho._ Grumpy as he was Sam was in no mood for careful.

"Right… if that's you being nice I'd hate to see you get angry."

"Hey! You guys were pushing it. I told you all I knew… not my fault you two didn't believe me. A girl's got to protect herself and what's hers you know." Yeah, Sam had heard someone say something like that before… Cal actually… to his brother…had been after she'd kneed him? Or after giving him that black eye? He was starting to understand why Dean had been so annoyed.

"Whatever. So what can I do for you Fran? To what do I owe the pleasure of a two a.m. phone call?"

"Don't take that condescending 'let's humor this one' tone with me. That's no way to treat a girl. I'm looking for Caitlin. She gave me an address and a phone number in Vermont but I checked, she's not there. You boys were looking for her… I'm willing to bet she's with you and probably not by choice. I swear if either of you have touched a even just a hair on her head…well you'd better have a good health plan is all I have to say."

"Huh? Well excuse _me_ little miss 'sunshine'. I'm not saying she's here, but if she _was_ what makes you think she wouldn't want to be here. Dean and I aren't _kidnappers_ for God's sake."

"Look, that girl and I practically grew up in my Dad's bar together. She likes to put up that whole 'lone wolf' front but I know her better than that. She lost her Dad earlier this year… now Billie who was the closest thing to a sister she had… and JC turning out to be a psycho… the girl needs her friends around her right now."

Well, he could certainly see where Fran was coming from… couldn't say he agreed with the approach…or the fact that she'd automatically assumed the worst… but from a brother's point of view… yeah, he could definitely see where she was coming from.

"Alright. I get the concern. She's like family isn't she?" He'd taken out that soft voice… the one Dean teased him about incessantly. It didn't fail him.

"You could say that, yeah." Her own voice had become soft too, obviously she cared an awful lot about Cal… and she was really worried. "Do you know where she is Sam?"

He couldn't not answer her.

"She's been here the whole time. At her apartment in New York. We only just caught up with her a week ago."

"_What?_ Son-of-a… ma petite _menteuse! _She lied to me? Just like her Dad that one… I can't _believe _she _lied_ to me…And since _when_ does she have an apartment in New York of all places? The girl just doesn't do 'settle down'."

"From what she's said so far…a couple of years now. Listen, uh…I'm sure she had her reasons for…"

"The address Sam… her address and the phone number. There are a few choice things I'd like to say to _mademoiselle_ O'Sulivan and I'd like to do it in person."

"I can't do that Fran."

"And why the _hell _not?!"

"Because if Cal had wanted you to know where she was she would have told you herself. She's got her reasons for keeping secrets."

"That girl likes to _think _she knows what's best for everyone but when it comes right down to it she has no idea what's best for _herself_." She was thinking aloud rather than making a statement to Sam.

Well, he certainly couldn't argue her there.

Maybe if he gave Fran Cal's cell number… seriously, what harm could it do? They'd get to talk… Franny would know for sure that she was okay… and if Cal got mad he had Dean as a buffer, right? Chances were good he'd come out of it in one piece… if he didn't give her the number and Fran ever caught up with them he might not be able to say as much. That thought alone was enough to make up his mind.

"Tell you what… why don't I give you her number. She'll give you her address if she wants you to come down and see her…"

"You know, I wasn't so sure at first…I'm starting to think Cal might have been right about you Sam…maybe you _are_ the more reasonable brother."


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay, so for some reason I'm not quite sure of the disclaimer I put at the begining of chapter one didn't show up when I posted so I' m going to put it here :)_

_I don't own the show, the boys, the car, anything supernatural related or even mildly scary... most of that stuff belongs to Mr. Kripke and or the CW. Fran and Cal are my doing though. Yep, they are figments made purely from my own imagination... which probably explains alot lol _

_This fic is actually the sequel to another piece I wrote called Winchester vs O'Sulivan which was extremely well received on both sites it was posted on. Feel free to pop by and read that one too. It might explain a bit about the 'vampire situation' that is mentioned a few times in this one. Also, I have about eight chapters written for this fic already so if you all enjoy it and would like to read more just let me know, okay? _

_Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoy!_

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* * *

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**Chapter Two**

Okay, so she'd lied. It's not like it was the first time… and it probably wouldn't be the last. It wasn't even really a _lie_ more like and omission of the truth… I mean really… coffee shop...bar… it's not like it was that big a difference… right? Alcohol…caffeine… Cal, who the hell do you think you're fooling? You're feeling guilty for lying to the guy. Why? Because you've got it bad girl and the lying is just another way for you to run from it… _Damn_.

Oh well, nothing you can do about it now. You're almost there. Just come clean when you get back. Dean'll understand… after he tears a strip out of you. Sly, dimpled smile… hm, the best part about arguing with that man was making up afterward…

O'Leary's Pub was three blocks down and one over from her apartment building, and normally she would have taken her Mustang out considering how cold a winter it had been so far. It was a beautiful day though and she was already running late, so what was another ten minutes in the grand scheme of things? It's not like there was a life hanging in the balance for a change…

She was startled by the theme song to the old Spiderman cartoon Sam and Dean had taken to watching Saturday mornings blaring from somewhere nearby. The hunter in her could only react. Spinning around and frantically looking around for the source, it took a minute to figure out that it was coming from her pocket.

Darn it! Dean really _was _getting bored. He'd taken to changing the ringtone on her phone when she wasn't looking. Last time it had been 'Hakuna Matata'. That one had surprised her in the middle of her bartending shift a few nights back. Sure, the regulars had a good laugh…but seriously… it was time to hit the road again when a guy's main source of entertainment was finding embarrassing songs to download onto his girlfriend's cell phone.

"Hullo?"

She'd half expected it to be Dean.

"Cal, where the heck are you? You said ten minutes… like half an hour ago!"

"Relax Franny. I'm right outside."

"_Sure_ you are. I'm sitting right by the window Caitlin, with a clear view of the door. You my dear are nowhere in sight."

She should have known Fran would pick a window seat.

"Ouvre tes yeux ma toune… open those eyes a little wider there hun. I'm walking through the door as we speak. See you in a sec."

Cal hung up picked up the pace. She was still a block away…

* * *

Fran was sitting in a window booth of a dark, dingy bar in the middle of big city New York. O'Leary's had been Cal's choice of meeting places and it wasn't hard to see why. It screamed trouble, and that girl was nothing but. _I'll bet I know why they don't have any mirrors in the joint. God I miss my little bar._

She'd had to hire a local girl to tend it before leaving. The kid was capable alright... but that didn't stop Franny from having visions of the place running out of beer…or coming home to find the place totally trashed. Cal wasn't the only one from that little town who enjoyed a good brawl.

_Alright Fran, get a good look at the girl. Make sure she's in one piece and doing okay and then you can head back home. You're probably worrying for nothing anyway. How much damage can the local boys do in a couple of days anyway? _Yeah right… who was she kidding? Cal wasn't the only one who'd smashed a mirror in the place… or a chair…or a table… wasn't there a toilet that had been wrecked once?

Then the girl had the unmitigated _gall _to lie to her… and hang up! I mean _seriously_. Franny was staring straight at the door. There was _no way _the tattooed three hundred pound biker dude in studded leather could possibly be her. Caitlin Marie O'Sulivan you are going to get the earful of your life when you finally decide to show the hell up…

* * *

Following her the four blocks was harder than he'd thought. Especially after her phone went off. He'd almost bust a gut trying not to laugh… Spinning around, eyes wide, arms flailing, ready to take good old Spidey on if she saw him… and then when she realized it was actually just her cell… he _still _had tears in his eyes. Sure she'd kill him for it later… but man, had it been worth it!

When he saw her destination it was all he could do to find a place to duck into, hide and spy on her where he wouldn't be seen. Choices were slim… a flower shop, a toy store… _right_ and of course the most evil of all coffee shops: Starbucks. The ones who were allergic to coffee flavored coffee. No help for it… it was the only place with a front window with a view of O'Leary's.

Smile at the girl behind the counter… no, no… just a regular coffee…Sumatran? Whatever. Coffee was coffee no matter where the damned bean came from. Patented Winchester grin as she slid a napkin across the counter at him along with the paper cup. Seven digits clearly printed in bold black ink. _Gina huh? _Heh heh. Cal was gonna have a cow.

* * *

Cal strode straight over to the bar. "Hey Bill, toss me a couple bottles of Keith's will ya?" and caught them easily as they came soaring at her. "Thanks man!" "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to wreck anything." Fran smiled knowingly. "Come on Bill. You know I can't make any promises. Tell you what thought… you keep that gorilla who calls himself a biker on a leash and I might not _have to_ this time." Dimple, wink and turn on booted heel.

"Well, nice to see you're up to your usual tricks." Fran said, accepting the cold amber bottle Cal set down in front of her.

"Yeah, well. You know what it's like… I'm in a place a little too long, I get a little bored. Bubba over there wouldn't take no for an answer… as usual the dude thought that buying a girl a beer meant he'd get laid by default. I'm not exactly the 'oh baby take me now' type so…"

"So you let him have a little of the old O'Sulivan charm." Fran touched the neck of her bottle to Cal's. "Well done hun. I'm just glad to see my poor little place isn't the only one you've trashed."

A hearty laugh and a long swig from Cal and Fran looked her friend in the eye letting her have it all in one shot.

"I'm glad to see _you_ in one piece too. What the hell were you thinking Cal? The false address in Vermont? The out of service phone number? Do you have any idea what it feels like to walk into a deserted cabin and suddenly be faced with the realization that your friend lied to you so completely? I mean, I had no idea where you were… hell, with everything that's happened lately I didn't know what frame of mind you were in… then the lying… and those Winchester guys…shady just isn't the word for those two. I didn't know _what_ the hell to think."

Fran was livid. She'd been scared. She felt betrayed. Cal had better have one damned good explanation…

"I was thinking my father, Billie and JC were dead because of what I do for a living. No way I was going put anyone else in that kind of danger again." Cal wouldn't even look at her. Instead she watched the crowds of people shuffle by on the street outside their window.

"Excuse me? You're blaming yourself for all that? As far as I know your Dad died of a heart attack… and JC is the one who killed Billie. Dude went _psycho_ on her remember? The guy committed suicide right after... what the hell does a bartending job in New York have anything to do with any of that?"

Maybe Cal wasn't as okay as she'd thought. For her to be blaming herself… something wasn't right.

"The, uh, the bartending is just something I do on the side Fran. I can't tell you what I really do."

"Oh, right. 'If I tell you I'll have to kill you'. Now you're a freaking spy."

"No, not a spy. Don't be like this Franny. I'm just trying to protect you here. There's a lot you don't know about me… about my life… and there's a really good reason for that."

It was those two guys…it had to be. Sam and Dean… hell the Dean guy was in the Starbucks across the street spying on them… Franny had watched him duck in and sit by the window in the Starbucks across the street right after Cal had come through the doors.

"This have anything to do with Mutt and Jeff Winchester? Be honest Cal."

"No. This has nothing to do with Sam and Dean."

"Are you sure… because if you're in trouble…"

"I am not in any kind of trouble Fran. I swear to you I'm not. If you don't believe me that's your problem. Seriously, other than being a little bored I've never been happier."

The skeptical look she was met with made it real clear that Fran did not believe her… not at all.

"Well that's a great big flaming load of crap. Alright, fine. Keep your little secrets… but I want to see this apartment of yours. Make sure everything's on the up and up."

Couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming. Didn't make it any easier to say no though.

"Can't do it Franny. Ties into what I do. It's just too dangerous."

"Like I care."

"Yeah well you might not, but I do. Look, I've gotta go Franny. Tell Bill to put the brew on my tab. I'll see you next time I head back over the border."

No way. The girl wasn't getting off that easy.

Fran watched her friend get up and leave. Watched Dean sneak up on her and scare the bejesus out of her…yeah, there was definitely sketchy about those guys.

When she was sure she wouldn't be noticed Franny left too… and followed Cal and Dean the whole four blocks home.

Cal wouldn't talk to her… probably wouldn't let her set foot through the door if Fran were to show up on her doorstep… what were the options now? Breaking in when she was out? Right. Francine Caroline Michel: super-sleuth. Sure thing there Sherlock.

Then again… the idea had its merits…and it was for Cal's own good. That girl had a bad habit of getting herself into trouble. Alright then, how hard could breaking into the girl's apartment be?

There was a Chapters across the street from the building… perfect hiding spot Fran. Walking in like she owned the place she scored herself a latte and settled in to wait. Those two would have to go out _sometime_… and when they did she would get her answers.

* * *

_So? You like, don't like or just plain want to read more? Review away and let me know! Thanks again and hope you liked it :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Three_**

"I can't believe I agreed to do this." Dean grumbled moodily as he pulled on his jacket.

"Hey, _you_ were the one who said you'd do _anything._" Cal reminded him sternly. "and you promised no complaining."

"Yeah, well I didn't think 'anything' would mean torture _and_ I'm not complaining. I'm just voicing my opinion…loudly." Yeah, yeah. Dude was just upset that she'd called him on it. They were a quick subway ride away from Broadway and she'd always wanted to go see the Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't everyday a girl got to bully the great Dean Winchester into going to a Broadway show. Usually Cal was more of an action flic type of girl… but when opportunity knocks… She owed Dean a good one for the ring tones anyway. What? Could have been worse… she could have been a ballet fan…

"You sure you don't want to come along Sammy? I thought this kind of crap was right up your alley." To Sam it was a hopeful plea… hopeful that he'd offer to take the poor guy's place. His sleepless nights hadn't gone unnoticed though. First and foremost Dean was a big brother. It didn't take a blind man to see when Sam was struggling with something and Dean was willing to bet it had something to do with Jess.

But his little brother just stretched himself out on the couch and turned on the tv. "Nah. You guys go on ahead. I'm curious to see what this place sounds like _quiet_." Cal and Dean might be cute together but they were like a couple of overgrown teenagers.

Well maybe Sam would get some sleep while they were out. Maybe Dean could get up early with him in the morning. See what he could find out about it over breakfast…

"Okay…" Dean pulled something out of his pocket, something flat and white, and handed it to Sam.

"Who's Gina?" Sam was thoroughly confused.

"Oh, um, she's a waitress at the Starbucks a few blocks over… you know, in case you should get thirsty for one of those half-caf latte's of yours."

Cal whipped around, eyes blazing. "Oh, you _so didn't_. Tell me you didn't score a phone number while you were _following _me today."

"Um, no… I scored a _napkin_ that just happens to have a pretty girl's number written on the back." Insert wide, self-satisfied grin here.

Cal, well she wasn't as impressed. Sam laughed as Dean bolted out the door and down the hallway with and angry Canadian hunter on his heels. By the time they hit the elevators the two of them were laughing as loudly as Sam was.

Well Sammy boy…you've got the place to yourself for a change. What to do? Nice hot shower… maybe a snack… Cal had a ton of books in her office, maybe she had something he hadn't read yet. Looked like he had a nice relaxing evening ahead of him for a change…

* * *

Fran lost no time. The second she saw Cal leave the building, obnoxious Winchester in tow, she made her move. 

The thought had occurred to her over the course of the afternoon that she had no idea what floor, or apartment in the twenty five storey building to look…but Cal wasn't the only one who could lie convincingly to get what she needed.

A quick phone call to property management uncovered one miss Mary Jane Watson. The name alone would have meant nothing to her… but the girl had a bright red top-of-the-line Mustang…and her two _'brothers' _had been spotted riding around in a black Impala. _Gotcha Cal! Brothers myhiney…_

Her first thought walking into the building was that she never figured Cal to be into 'swanky'. The place reeked of money…it had a front desk just like a hotel for Pete's sake. The sleaze bag sitting behind it eyed her up and down and side to side as she came through the doors. Greasy much? That was okay, she could work with greasy.

The guy saw a tall smiling woman with curves in all the right places and long really pale brown hair walk in wearing tight blue jeans and black leather. Dude would need a towel the way he was slobbering all over himself. Heh, heh… the guy didn't stand a chance.

"Hi… my name's Francine…" his eyes went wide as she pronounced her name with a generous helping of the French accent that always served her well when flirting. Oh yeah, she had this guy's number all right. "my friend Mary Jane is expecting me tonight. Said I could just pick up her spare key here and let myself in.?"

Concerned eyes scanned paperwork as he shifted it around in front of him. "I…um…she didn't leave a message about it or anything…" Poor guy didn't have a clue.

"Oh darn! She's just the worst for that... always forgetting, that girl… d'you know that the last time this happened I ended up having to wait down here three whole hours until she came home?" Franny loved to play the innocent girl card… it was always a sure thing…

"But that's _terrible_." The guy was all sympathy…leaning over the counter…very obviously trying to get a peek at her cleavage. Good luck dude. "I'll tell you what though… since this has happened before I could, you know, just let you go on ahead up…" It was just too easy… a little gushing…and…

"Oh my goodness, you would do that for me? Thank you _sooo_ much!"

He just smiled and handed her the key.

"You just let me know if there's ever anything else I can do for you, alright?" Dude was so transparent. He was looking for a number, a night out…or more likely a night _in_. Ha! Like that was ever gonna happen.

"Sure thing. Thanks again!" Fran smiled sweetly, already halfway across the lobby. A quick bat of eyelashes and a wave of fingers and she turned intent only on the task at hand. Digging up Cal's dirt.

Greasy front desk man already forgotten Fran didn't walk to the elevators… she ran. Who knew how much time she had before that stubborn, mule-headed excuse of a girl came home again…

* * *

With a thick paperback in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other Sam had draped his long lanky frame over comfortably worn lazy-boy recliner. The quiet was so peaceful that it wasn't long before he started nodding off… he didn't even bother fighting it, just lay the open book on his chest and closed his eyes drifting off with a sigh and a smile.

* * *

2007…nope, wrong side…need the even numbers Fran…2010? That's better…2012…and there it is! 2014. Honestly Cal, Mary Jane Watson? What the hell is that all about? Franny was going to have one hell of a lot of questions for that girl if… no make that _when _they finally sat down and sifted through the lies to get to the truth. 

Slipping the key out of her pocket and into the lock she let herself into the dark apartment. For a moment all she could do was stand in the open doorway. Letting out a long, low whistle she took in what little she could see from the light of the hallway.

Old Jacob must have left that girl one hell of an inheritance because this place… it might not have been one of those cushy penthouse jobs but it was impressive alright…and _huge._ I always knew you had expensive tastes hun, but I would never have expected _this._ There were shiny objects glinting in the shadows all over the place. Hardwood flooring by the door surrounded by deep, plush carpeting all through the living room… and the kitchen…She could just barely glimpse it from where she stood but what she did see involved a lot of stainless steel… and were those granite countertops? Damn girl… you're kitchen's more impressive then the one at the bar…and that was saying a lot.

Okay then… if I were Cal's dirt, where would I be hiding? Taking off her wet boots Franny padded soundlessly through the living room. It was a bit of a shock to see that the shiny objects scattered here and there were mostly weapons of some sort. Knives, Swords, a crossbow hanging on the wall… holy crap! Was that a _machete_ in the corner?

There was also a lot of strange art-like stuff. Decorative jars lined the mantel piece by the couch. A smell test told her they were filled with oil… and a couple seemed to just have water in them. There was an Egyptian-looking standing vase, a couple of Mayan discs, an ornate Pentagram… it all seemed to have something to do with religion and the occult. Damn girl, I know you're tough… but since when do you have a creepy side? She'd been right… something was definitely off.

As opposed to the living room the kitchen was downright normal, which was even stranger really because Cal had never really been the Martha Stewart type. Yet here was this perfect kitchen… clean and tidy and as Martha as you could get… right down to the potted herbs on the window sill… Okay, this was just too much. Fran dug into the freezer. She may not know as much as she thought about her friend but one thing she knew for sure. Where there was Cal there were always M&M's and Ben and Jerry's… and Fran definitely needed a little B&J right now.

New York Super Fudge Chunk eh? Heh heh, that's my girl! Spoon and quart of ice cream in hand Fran took her search down the hallway and into the bedrooms. The first one just happened to be Cal's.

Fran wasn't surprised to see men's clothes scattered around the room… or the duffel bag she'd seen Mr. Obnoxious Winchester toting around back home. She _was _surprised to see a big back of rock salt in the corner of the room though…

Now, Franny hadn't bothered with any lights so far. The apartment was dark, but she was used to the dim lights of her bar at night and was able to see well enough without them… plus she was kind of enjoying the 'catburglar' feel of what she was doing and the dark was adding to it nicely. Who would have thought she had a sketchy side? Heh heh…

Rewarding herself with another spoonful of creamy, chocolatey goodness she made a beeline for the closet. You could tell a lot about a person by what was in their closet…

She'd just pulled open the double doors to the walk in closet when she heard a soft shuffling from somewhere behind her that set her heart racing… what the?

Cal didn't scare easy, but this was big city New York she was in… not small town Ontario… what were the chances that Cal's apartment would be broken into twice in one night? Scanning the closet frantically for some sort of object she could use to defend herself she silently thanked the girl for stocking so many weapons in the place. A large, familiar blunt object stood proudly in the corner by a pair of very tall black leather boots. She would have had issues figuring out how to use a crossbow… but a baseball bat she could definitely work with…

One more fortifying taste of chocolate and she was off to find the source of the shuffling sound, comforting weight of long, blunt hardwood in hand. She hadn't been playing softball most of her life for nothing.

She didn't even make it out of the room when the sound came again accompanied by a large shadow that moved slowly past the doorway. Figured, she had a feeling she'd be dealing with a dude on this one. Usually Fran would stop and ask questions first… maybe there was a reason the guy was there? Posh digs like these… maybe Cal had a cleaning lady…er guy? The sheer size of the guy made her nervous though and every last instinct was screaming 'danger'. Never one to doubt her female intuition she followed her gut…and the shadow right into the living room.

She caught up with him in the living room. He was standing by the doors to the balcony… looking out at the city lights? Weird for a thief to take the time to admire the view. But hey, what did she know right?

Hugging the walls, bat hanging loosely at her side, ready for use, she moved silently toward the figure. Dude was freaking huge… like six-five…with buns of steel… focus Fran… focus… you're supposed to be taking the guy down, not admiring his assets. Just a little closer…both hands firmly gripping the bat she pulled it back ready to strike, aimed for the broad expanse of shoulder and swung putting all of her weight into it.

Unfortunately for Fran, the guy turned at the very last second and caught the bat in two very large hands, muscled arms bulging as an angry voice cut through the darkness. "Ow!" Acting on instinct and able only to react at this point all she could do was try to pull her source of protection from the mammoth man's death grip. Of course, that particular struggle only lasted about thirty seconds before the guy had her disarmed. She was strong but there was no way she had any kind of a chance against the giant who was now trying to pin her arms at her sides… still she fought him off.

They were struggling against each other in the darkness, moving in lopsided circles around the room. Panting, grunting punctuated by the occasional 'ow' and colorful cursing the only sounds either heard… and then one of them stepped on something hard and plastic causing the TV to come on and light up the room.

Sam stopped cold in his tracks. "Franny?" Unfortunately for him she was still in survival mode and didn't even stop to look at her attacker in the light of the tv, just wound her arm back and let loose her fist on his face. It wasn't until after he stumbled back a couple of steps that she realized that the very satisfying punch she'd just connected with Mammoth Man's face might not have been as necessary as she thought. "_Sam_? Sam Winchester?" Crap… how had she managed to forget the brother? Of course he'd be staying with Cal too. From what she'd seen a few months earlier those two went everywhere together.

Lucky for him he was so tall because her fist didn't make it past his cheek otherwise he probably would have wound up with a black eye. Déjà vu of another time and place not so long ago… a moment in a bar between Cal and his brother. As it was he just had a big red blotch that he was rubbing gently trying hard to get the tingling to stop. "What the hell are you doing here Fran?" Man could that girl throw a punch!

"Cal…uh… lent me her spare key…" Okay, so she was lying… not something she enjoyed doing…but it was worth a shot right?

"Yeah, right. Try again. Cal told us that you asked to come back here and she told you know. Actually, you're all we heard about for a good hour after she got back." Sam actually felt for her. He could understand the concern… but he could also understand Cal not wanting to put the people she cared about in danger. He knew what the consequences were better than most.

"Hey, she lied to me and now she's hiding something. As far as I know at this point she doesn't have anyone left in the world to look out for her and I'm sorry but that girl needs someone to keep an eye out for her. No way I'm going home until I know she's safe. No matter what the girl says. Wouldn't be much of a friend if I did, now would I?"

She was angry, defensive and completely unapologetic. As much as Sam understood he sure wasn't impressed. Maybe there really was something to Dean's 'crazy Canadian' theory.

"You should go. Cal and Dean'll be out all night. You'd be better off calling her in the morning."

But… there were still like _three rooms_ she hadn't had the chance to snoop around in yet. Time to change tactics… "Look, I feel really bad about…well, you know. What I did to your face. Let me at least get you some ice or something before I go…" Sam watched her flutter her pretty eyes… why hadn't he noticed them before? These girls might be like Dean with the whole 'shoot first, ask later' mentality but it was nice to see that unlike Cal, Franny had a softer side to her too.

Maybe missing Jess had him going a little soft, but the prospect of a little TLC was definitely tempting. What could it hurt, really? It would be nice to not have to get his own ice for a change… not that he'd expected to need any tonight to begin with. A little ice… maybe some conversation…something that didn't have to do with hunting for a change… yeah, as long as his hotheads didn't come home early a few extra minutes wouldn't hurt anyone. It's not like she was a total stranger. Might even do him some good.

"Okay…But I'm walking you back to where you're staying right after." Bingo! It wasn't much… but not much was enough for her to work with.

"Super!" Smiling brightly she sashayed her way toward the kitchen. It wasn't until she turned back just before her destination that she realized he hadn't taken his eyes off her. Interesting… very interesting… "Hey, Sam… could you do me a favor while I'm in here?"

A favor? She was asking for a favor, after decking him a good one? Why was he not surprised… "That depends what the favor is I guess."

"Oh." She looked at him a little sheepishly "I, uh, raided Cal's Ben and Jerry's stash before checking out her bedroom…and kind of left it in there. Would you mind going to get it while I get the ice?"

The warm, rich laughter that bubbled out of him surprised them both. "Ben and Jerry's huh? Let me guess… another chocoholic?"

"Card carrying member."

"I'd better hurry then… if you're anything like Cal when she's craving then my life might be on the line if I don't"

They were both laughing as he walked away in search of the abandoned ice cream.

Maybe you're wrong about these Winchester guys Franny… this Sam guy… he's not half bad.

* * *

**_Have loads more of this fic written. Please review! Let me know how if you're enjoying it and if I should continue to post more. Thanks!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter Four_**

So for the record, her excuse for heading down the hallway again and sneaking…um, better make that _looking_… into the other two room was that she was looking for a towel or something to wrap the sandwich baggie of ice in. Off the record, she was totally snooping. And if Sam didn't believe her 'facecloth' story, well she could always accuse him of taking too long with the ice cream. Whatever worked, right?

First room she walked into was an office-type room. There were bookshelves lining the walls, a desk pushed up against a huge window and a couple of really old, worn out lazy-boys. Yup, only you cal would have a room full of beautiful furniture and then stuff those monstrosities into the mix. They sure looked comfortable… too bad she didn't have enough time to try one out.

There was a paperback laying open on a half finished plate of cookies that were calling her name. Mm, chocolate chip… well you just don't say no to chocolate, now do you Fran? Good thing she did too because that's when she set eyes on the dirt she was looking for.

An old leather bound journal, stuffed almost to overflowing with papers and pictures. Hm, never figured you to be the kind of girl to write a diary Cal… but a journal? If I were your dirt that's definitely where I'd be…

"Fran?" Sam's voice drifted down the hallway from the kitchen. Thinking fast she pulled off her jacket and tossed it over the journal. Running to the door, cookie in one hand and ice in the other. "I'm in here Sam. Any idea where I can find a towel or something?"

"There's a bathroom at the end of the hallway… you know what, hang on. I'll show you where they are." Probably not a good idea to have her nosing around the place. They had work stuff lying around everywhere… some of it was pretty questionable unless you happened to be a hunter.

Of course, Fran wasn't about to just wait around. If the door at the end of the hallway was a bathroom then that left just the one room to look into. Mission Impossible theme song stuck in her head she crept through the door of the last mystery room…and discovered another bedroom. Pleasant surprise that instead of being a war zone like Cal's room had been, this one seemed to have some semblance of order to it. Sam's room?

This one had just the one heap of clothes by the closet door, presumably dirty because there was also a stack of neatly folded ones on a chair right next to it. Another canvas duffel bag lay open by the window accompanied by another gigantic bag of salt. Weird much? Didn't take a genius to recognize the tip of a sawed-off shotgun that was poking out of the bag… What was it with Cal, these Winchesters and all the freaking weapons?!?

She was just reaching down to pull it out of the bag when a loud cough came from the open doorway. "That's a pretty bad habit" Sam watched her jump up and turn toward him guiltily.

"Yeah well, nobody's perfect. There are worse things in life than being a chocoholic." Yeah, he didn't believe the innocent act for a second.

"I wasn't talking about chocolate."

"Oh?" She asked, yoinking the quart of Ben and Jerry's from his hand and brushing past him. Distract him Fran… Distract him so you don't have to answer any questions…God he smelled good. Wait, no… don't get distracted girl…distract _him._

Rolling his eyes he watched her head into Cal's office.

"You know, this sneaking around and going through other people's stuff…it could get you into a lot of trouble." Arms crossed he watched her walk straight over to the desk and snatch up another cookie.

"Right. Should have known you'd try to feed me that line too. Cal already played the 'spy' card at the bar. She didn't use so many words but the general gist of it was 'if I told you I'd have to kill you. I'm not buying it." How the hell she managed cold, hard determination while mowing down on ice cream and cookies he had no idea.

"Actually, it's more like if she told you it could end up killing you." It wasn't like he could get specific about the hunting… but maybe he could get Fran to understand that Cal hadn't done it to be hurtful, but to protect her.

"Well, so much for the 'reasonable brother' theory." The words were tossed with the bag of ice and Sam caught them easily.

"Really? Well then I'm not the only unreasonable one here am I?

Fran put the ice cream down and scooped up her jacket…journal safely hidden away in the folds of black leather. "Whatever helps you sleep at night Sam" and she was once again brushing past him… this time heading back toward the living room.

"Hey! You know, I'm getting really tired of staring at your back. What is it with you, Cal and the walking away stuff?"

"Call it a Canadian thing" she smirked, slipping on her boots and opening the door. "Oh, and Sam? I've decided to respectfully decline your generous offer to walk me back to the hotel. I'd rather keep my own company then be lied to."

Closing the door, her last glimpse of Sam would stick with her the whole way back. Standing barefoot in the middle of the living room the very picture of tall, dark and handsome…with a stunned look on his face that had him looking every bit the little boy. _It's just too damned bad you decided to lie to me too. Another time, another place…_Stepping into the elevator she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. If it weren't for the mysterious thing the guy had going on she wouldn't have thought twice about it. The man wouldn't have stood a chance. _But you know what mysterious leads to, don't you hun? Nothing but heartbreak…nothing but hurt..._God, but it had been tempting, hadn't it?

The ding of the elevator reaching the ground floor pulled her out of dangerous thoughts. Greasy Front Desk Guy was a little surprised to see her so soon… but she had him covered. "She called a few minutes ago… forgot as usual. Silly girl won't even be coming home tonight." Sliding him the key across the counter she winked at him at walked away.

She didn't even bother pulling on her coat… just walked straight out the door, flagged down a cab and stepped in. "Where we goin'?" the cabbie asked, meter already running. "The Belleclaire on 57th please." her breath caught as she watched a young couple enter the building she'd just left. Cal… and Dean… she'd left just in time. She pulled the journal out from the depths of her coat as they sped away.

"the Belleclaire huh?" the cabbie asked conversationally "Guess you're just visiting our fine city then. Snazzy digs you're staying at…You hear about the ghost they've got there…?"

Shades of things to come… too bad Franny couldn't possibly have known.

* * *

"What the hell happened to your face man?"

Dean had walked into Cal's apartment to the sight of his brother slapping a bag of ice on his cheek.

"Thought you guys were going out." He mumbled avoiding the question entirely.

"We did… but _someone _thought it would be funny to heckle the cast of the play…" Admittedly it had been funny… but still. Dean had definitely not earned himself any points with that particular performance.

"Hey! I might have been the one who started it, but at least I didn't deck the usher…"

"The guy had it coming Dean. You almost reached out and touched the guy yourself."

What the hell had they gotten themselves into, Sam wondered as he gingerly nursed his sore cheek. Dean alone was bad enough sometimes… add Cal into the mix… and little miss 'break-and-enter' Fran… suddenly he missed the open road. Just Dean, the Impala and even the heavy rock that constantly blared from the stereo.

"Sam? Your face…what happened?" Well, there went dodging the question. Dean might have his hands full with Cal, but he was still the protective big brother he'd always been.

"Cal's friend Fran."

Two heads, one double take.

"Franny was here?" Cal asked, completely shocked.

"Damn, she must've followed us back from O'Leary's" Dean was kicking himself for not having been more careful.

"Yeah, well I don't think she was expecting anyone to be here. She came at me with a baseball bat when she realized there was someone else here."

"Dude, she got you with a bat?" his brother was eyeing him skeptically. Sam's face would have had to be made of steel to have suffered so little damage.

"No, the bat I saw coming. _This_ was her fist."

Cal's laughter was not appreciated… no matter how funny it was and Dean was all business. "D'you think she saw anything?"

"Just the sawed off in my bag and the stuff lying around in here. I wouldn't be surprised if she thinks we're terrorists or something."

"But your bag is in your room isn't it?" Dean asked a little confused. What was the girl doing in Sam's… hang on, he wouldn't have…would he? A slow smile spread across Deans face lighting it up with pride. "Aw, come on Dean. I left her alone in the kitchen for two seconds and found her snooping around in my room."

"Hey, I'm not one to judge Sam."

Cal didn't care either way…she just wanted to know one thing:

"Do you think she figured it out?"

"No. She thinks you're lying to her and she's mad as hell about it…but she doesn't know any of what's going on."

"Great. Well, looks like I'm going to have to sit down with her again. I get the feeling she'll hunt me down until I give her an answer she can believe."

No one noticed the missing journal...

* * *

Eleven o'clock that night found Franny pajama clad, sitting cross-legged on the over-sized bed in her cushy expensive hotel room. _There are perks to this owning your own business thing… you get to kick people out at your discretion, free beer and eats whenever you want…sure the hours suck and your vacation time is something you cash in every six years or so…but when you finally do take it…_well, her room was something out of the ritzy magazines. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous style. A girl could definitely get used to a place like this… too bad she'd be leaving for home soon…

But not until she got a good look at that journal she'd picked up. In fact…she was going to do that right this minute. Looking at the worn leather cover she suffered a moment's hesitation… the old intuition was telling her she wouldn't like what she'd find. Of course, it had also told her Sam Winchester was a threat… so what the hell did _it _know anyway?

Fearlessly flipping open the cover she dove in head first. Alright girl, time to get to the bottom of all this.

There was just so much to take in at once. First thing her eyes set on were photos. Not of Jacob and Cal… oh no, these were of two boys who were a few years apart in age and an older man. They were old and the color had faded but there was no mistaking them. They were Winchesters. _So, not Cal's journal after all? Dean or Sam's…okay, well there's bound to be some hint in here anyway…right?_

First page… hand drawn picture of a tree in black ink…titled the 'Sleep Easy Motel'? Okay, so we have a budding artist. That did not answer her question about whose book it could be. Fortunately the next two pages did.

There were more pictures, older than the others, of a soldier. Very obviously their Dad. There was too much resemblance for it to be anyone else. Then the first entry dated December 6th, 1983. _I buried my wife today… _There was no doubt. This book was John Winchester's.

Franny cried through John's journal entries until they started to get creepy. All that talk about there being something out there in the dark… it had her thinking about the ghost story the cabbie had told her on the way back from Cal's. There were pages and pages of notes about spirits, demons, white women, _reapers _for Pete's sake!! If it weren't for the fact that some of this stuff actually seemed to make sense she would have written the man off as a lunatic. By the time she got to the part that had to do with protective symbols and such Fran was in no mood to take any chances.

Moving restlessly around the room she read the few instructions the man had actually written down. Apparently pentagrams were a form of protection eh? Well, she was a little too scared right now to be testing _that _particular theory just now.

Salt lining the doors and windows, also a good protective measure against evil…Okay, she was willing to fall for that one. Seemed harmless enough. Sure, except this ain't no suite you've got here honey, no kitchen here and ordering a box of salt through room service might make you look like a bit of a loonie. Franny might have been scared but she had her pride too.

Holy Water? Darn, and she'd decided to leave _hers_ at _home_. Seriously… this protecting against evil wasn't exactly practical stuff, was it? Why couldn't chocolate be a protective force? Or regular water… or heck why not pocket lint? That was always something she could dig up… Reading on she found drawings that she'd need chalk to draw…and stuff that involved candles and chanting… all stuff she either didn't have or wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole because it was so creepy.

That's when it popped out at her. In the middle of the page stuffed between symbols the guy called 'runes' and yet another variation of the pentagram there was a squiggly funny looking symbol drawn out in pen. No mention of chalk, holy water, salt… good. She could convince herself that drawing it out in pen would do the trick and then maybe, just maybe her overactive imagination would spare her the nightmares she knew were coming.

Alright Franny, it's worth a shot right? You get a good night's sleep and no one's the wiser… scribbling madly away on the hotel note pad next to the phone she quickly pumped out a decent copy of the symbol and stuck it to the door. _Ha!_ _There. Let's see some freaky transparent ghost chick get through that! _

Shutting off all the lights but the one in the bathroom she crawled her cotton pajama-ed behind into bed and stared at the picture she'd stuck on the door until she fell fast asleep.

Unfortunately the little picture didn't work. All night Franny had dream after dream of a beautiful woman with long, curly red hair walking into her room to the sight of her husband and some blonde bimbo. As if she'd been there herself Fran saw the scene replay itself over and over again. The redhead pulled the gun, blaming the bimbo for everything… killing her, then the man…and then herself.

Two floors up on the other side of the building the transparent form of a beautiful redhead slowly approached the door to another room… inside a man and his girlfriend lay fast asleep in each other's arms. The man woke to the sound of the first gunshot and started screaming for help… the ghost hesitated a minute…then two… then took her second shot with tears of blood streaming across deathly pale cheeks before turning her weapon on herself. She fell to the floor in a heap of limbs and crimson blood.

When security beat down the door they found nothing but the man and his wife, no longer sleeping, no longer breathing, still laying in bed only now they were covered in blood.

* * *

**_You like? Don't like? Want to read more? I've got a few more chapters written so review away and let me know so I can post them already :) lol_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

Five thirty in the morning and Dean woke with a start for apparently no reason whatsoever. Cal was curled up in a little ball beside him, covers hiding everything but her hair. Okay, nothing unusual there… maybe it was Sammy then that woke him.

Pulling on a t-shirt to ward off the chill of morning he quietly padded down the hall to take a peek in on his brother. Unlike Cal, Sam had tossed off all the blankets and had spread himself out across the entire bed. The legs of the dark blue plaid pajama pants he was wearing had bunched up around his knees and you couldn't see face from messy brown hair. Dean smiled to himself and shook his head… some things hadn't changed at all since they were kids. It was comforting to see.

So apparently he was up at the butt-crack of dawn for no good reason. Everyone was safe… and he was now wide awake. It was tempting to crawl back into bed and wake Cal up. There were chills of anticipation racing through him at even just the thought of it… but he decided against it. The girl was constantly on the go… like she didn't know the meaning of the words 'slow' or 'rest'. Sleeping in would do her a world of good.

Besides, a little time to himself might not be such a bad thing either. It had been a very long time since he'd had or even wanted a little time alone. To be able to sit in the kitchen and drink his first coffee of the day quietly to the sounds of Cal and Sam snoring away down the hall was something he never thought he'd be able to do. _Well, there's a first time for everything isn't there?_

A few minutes later he was sitting quietly on a stool at the island, local newspaper before him and coffee in hand. It never dawned on him that what he was doing might actually be considered 'normal' to some. It was a strange and foreign feeling, this peacefulness stuff. But it felt good so who was he to question it? Maybe today he'd skip the obits first thing and go straight to the funnies for a change…

Today though, today he didn't need to check the obits to see if anything strange was lurking out there preying on innocent people… today that 'anything' made the front page headlines.

_**Broadway Star and Girlfriend Murdered in Sleep at Belleclair hotel**_

Dean's heart sped up a notch as it always did when he stumbled across a new hunt. _Well, there goes peaceful and quiet_ he thought ruefully, chuckling to himself. Suited him just fine. Quiet and peaceful was starting to get boring anyway.

Not wanting to wake anyone up just yet he read the article twice, soaking up the details and trying to piece together the situation. There was something that felt familiar about it somehow…Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Well, there's one good way to find out where that familiar feeling was coming from. He all but ran from the kitchen to Cal's office for their Dad's journal. If they'd come across something like it before then it would be mentioned in there for sure…

But the journal wasn't on the desk… wasn't in the office at all…or the living room…or anywhere else in the apartment for that matter…maybe in the car? Or Cal's Mustang?

Pulling on some clothes as quietly as possible he went down to check and see for himself and was unpleasantly surprised to find it missing there too.

Where the hell had the damned thing gone?!? Sam had been flipping through it yesterday morning… and Dean was positive he'd seen it before heading out with Cal the night before. It had been sitting on the desk, right in front of the window… and that's when it dawned on him. Fran had been there the night before.

_Aw hell_! It would just figure wouldn't it? Well, still no need to wake anyone up… Dean pulled out the list of local hotels that he'd put together a month earlier while looking for Cal and started dialing. Wherever that Fran chic was, he'd find her… and then she'd have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

Bang!Bang!BANG!BANG!**BANG!BANG!BANG!_BANG!BANG!BANG!_**

Fran sat bolt upright in bed, fresh out of one of a series of nasty ass nightmares that had gone on all night. What the hell was that sound? Construction maybe? You'd think somebody down at the front desk would have mentioned something… _bangbangbang!! _Aw hell, it was getting louder…maybe it was room service with the wake up call and coffee she'd asked for… _bangbangbang!!_ Okay, maybe not…room service would be just a tad more careful with the hotel's property. Whoever the heck it was at her door they were doing their best to pound a hole right through it._bangbangbangbang!!_

"Alright, alright! Hold you freaking horses, I'm coming already!" She shouted grumpily, once again missing her little bar, and her little apartment upstairs. At least _there_ if a girl wanted to sleep in people left her the hell alone.

Long tangled hair, crumpled pajamas clinging oddly to her body from tossing and turning all night Fran hoped she looked as scary as she felt. She was about to let whoever-the-heck-it-was have it in a big way. Scary looking was a good thing… maybe they'd run away screaming and leave her to wake up in peace…

Swinging open the door, the sight she was met with was definitely at the top of her 'worst case scenario' list. Mr Dean 'Obnoxious' Winchester didn't even wait for the door to open all the way, just pushed his way past her and started looking around her room. "Oh _hell no_! I know you didn't just burst into my room like that without even so much as a 'hello'."

"Cut the crap lady. Where is it?" The guy was so angry his face was red and she could have sworn there was steam coming out of his ears.

"Alright, first off I have a name. Enough with the 'lady' crap. Maybe if you tell me what it is you think I have I might be able to figure out what the heck it is you're asking me for." Sure, she knew what brought him here. No way she was going to take this macho garbage from him though. Did Cal let him get away with stuff like this? Somehow Fran thought not.

"Don't play dumb Fran. The Journal. My Dad's Journal. I know you took off with it last night. Where the hell is it?" Wow, good thing she'd put it in a safe place before crawling into bed the night before. Dude was pulling open drawers and rummaging around her stuff looking for it. Enough was enough already! So Fran picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hullo?" A sleepy, groggy voice answered on the third ring.

"Good morning Cal. Sorry to wake you up so early but you'll never guess who just woke _me_ up a few minutes ago by trying to break down my hotel room door?"

"Franny? What're you talking about?" The girl was still very obviously half asleep.

"I'm talking about your boyfriend who is at this very moment tearing apart my room looking for god-only-knows-what. You mind coming down here to collect him before he starts ripping apart the furniture and the artwork? Dude's completely out of control."

Dean looked up from the head of the bed as he pulled away the pillows. She hadn't… She wouldn't… his cell phone went off in his pocket… "Dean? What the heck are you doing?" Damn it! She did.

"'Morning She-Ra…"

"Don't. I'm not awake yet. Sweet-talk doesn't work until after coffee. What the heck are you doing over there?" Well, Cal didn't sound angry… just curious. He could work with curious.

"Dad's journal went missing." There was silence on the other end of the line, then a deep breath.

"You think Fran took it?" she'd been afraid of something like that happening.

"Positive of it."

"I'll be there in five."

"'Preciate it. Oh, and wake Sam up too." No way he was going to be outnumbered two to one.

"'Course I will hun. Where do we find you?"

"The Belleclaire, 5th floor, room 504… and Cal? You're going to want to check out the front page of the paper before you head over." The couple he'd read about had been staying at the Belleclaire too. She'd want to know before coming down.

He hung up to the sight of Fran, arms folded across her chest, glaring at him angrily. "So, she coming to collect you before you do any more damage?"

Well one thing was for sure: this was going to be one hell of a day!

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**_Thank you for your reviews! More please :)_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

"You think you can hold off on going through my stuff long enough for me to grab a shower, or do I need to babysit you until Cal gets here?"

Dean shot her a dark look from the big cushy chair by the window that he'd claimed just moments before.

"Well aren't we pleasant first thing in the morning?" he sneered. Fran just kept on looking at him as if he hadn't said a thing. Deep annoyed sigh and "Look, I told you I wouldn't touch anything until Cal and Sam get here." For some odd reason this chic didn't seem to believe him. Maybe because he was lying, just waiting for her to leave the room long enough for him to finish the search. Nah. Not a chance If there was one thing Dean did well, it was lying to get what he needed. No way she was on to him…

Annoyingly, she also seemed completely immune to the Winchester charm that had always served him so well in that particular department. That particular bit of information would make Cal an extremely happy camper.

"Why do I _not _believe you?" Fran asked as she straightened her pajamas. If she couldn't trust the guy alone long enough to get showered and changed she was at least going to look presentable when the other two finally got there. Picturing Cal grabbing the obnoxious jerk by the ear and dragging him all the way back to her apartment was enough to finally make her smile.

Dean caught sight of that evil little smile in the mirror as she brushed out her hair and it made his skin crawl. It was the same sort of smile Cal always had just before something really awful happened…like the steroid cowboy bar brawl a little while back, when she'd given him that black eye.

_Great, as if one wasn't bad enough…at least with Cal there are perks that make it worthwhile…_thoughts strayed to that first night when he'd finally caught up with her in New York after a month of searching. Fran arched a brow at the wolfish grin that had suddenly appeared as he stared out into space… well _that_ was one worth asking about, wasn't it?

Of course that would be the exact moment the loud, impatient knock finally came. It was just as well anyway. She was starting to think that maybe she didn't really want to know what was going on in the guy's head to have him smiling like that all of a sudden. Dean jumped up at the sound and crossed his arms across his chest as Fran opened the door. _Finally_, maybe Cal could talk some sense into this chic.

They were both surprised to see Sam standing alone in the hallway looking less than pleased… with either of them.

"Where's Cal?" One question, two voices. Sam would have laughed if he hadn't been so angry.

"She's upstairs…um, working." A questioning look from Fran. Working eh? In the hotel? Right. More questions without answers. Well, they'd be answered soon enough wouldn't they?

"She is huh? Nice." This from grumpy Dean. Figured. First hunt they'd come across in weeks and she'd started on it alone. Least she could have done was wait for him…

"Yeah Dean. I asked her to go on ahead actually. She's pretty pissed off, figured it would help her cool off some. _I_ wanted the first go round with you on this one, seeing as once she starts tearing a strip out of you I won't be able to get a word in edgewise for awhile."

Dean gave Sam the 'oh really?' look. What exactly did _he_ have to be upset about?

"Don't look at me like that man. Since when do you go charging in head first without back-up?"

"You're mad because I came alone?" yeah, that was a surprise. "_she_ took Dad's journal, and _you're _mad at _me_ because I came to collect it by myself. Shouldn't you be mad at _her _for taking it in the first place?"

Of course, mention of the Journal was enough to turn Sam's wrath on Franny. Way to go on the deflection Dean thought, mentally patting himself on the back! Brown eyes blazing dangerously Sam swiveled, pinning Fran where she stood with a glare that promised certain death if she moved even just a muscle. The purple-ish bruise on his cheek jumped merrily as the muscle beneath it flexed, an obvious sign of his displeasure. "If it's here, I want it. _Now_." No hello, no good morning…His voice was low and deadly calm, a near perfect imitation of their fathers Dean realized suddenly. Okay, so maybe 'displeasure' was a bit of an understatement. He'd seen Sam mad before, but never like this. Not since Jess had died.

Fran was fearless in the face of the immovable solid brick wall Sam had become. "Well _that's _a fine way to ask a girl for something. Never _mind _that I just finished telling your brother over there that I don't have it." Hands on her hips she was giving her all the 'tude she could muster. Not an easy feat seeing as she was suddenly in short supply for some odd reason.

Now _this _was interesting… Dean could see Fran's armor of attitude threatening to crumble…and Sam, who was usually the first one to look for compromise and middle ground, was suddenly a carbon copy of himself with the 'won't back down'. He wouldn't be surprised if they forgot all about him, staring each other down like that. Stifling the urge to chuckle smugly he opted instead to sit back down and watch the two go at it. Impossible to be sure who would win this one though at this point he'd put his money on his brother. Man, this was _definitely _better than pay-per-view. Nice to see Sammy on the receiving end of this stuff for a change… and to be the one on the sidelines laughing away. What was it that he'd called it a few days ago…? Character building. Yeah that was it, a character building experience heh heh.

"I'm sorry, did you mistake that for _asking_? It wasn't a question Fran, it was a demand. No, actually… it was an order. Where the hell do you get off stealing my Dad's journal anyway?" Uh oh. That girl was in _trou-ble_. The little nostril flare move Sammy was doing was renowned to be the start of days-long arguments…the last one had gone on for over a week.

"I didn't _steal _anything!! I should have known you'd be as obnoxious as that brother of yours. I _borrowed_ the Journal. I thought it was Cal's…" Franny's defensiveness was beginning to wane.

"Yeah, well it wasn't." Dude looked like he was made of steel.

"No, it wasn't. But what the hell did you expect me to do? Cal's not talking, neither are _you_ and I'm worried about her. Where the hell else was I going to look?" One last push…

"You've got about thirty seconds to give it back…or I let _him_" quick jerk of shaggy head in Dean's general direction "pick up where he left off."

Wide doe eyes shifted back and forth from Sam to Dean who was rubbing his hands in anticipation and back to Sam again who had not changed expression. Deep sigh of defeat and she shuffled unhappily over toward the bed. Lifting the mattress she slid a hand between it and the box-spring and produced a worn-looking brown leather journal. Both men moved at once toward her, but Sam made it there first. Outstretched arm, palm open he simply waited for her to place it where it belonged.

She didn't let go when she did. Just held on when his long fingers wrapped themselves around the spine. "The stuff in there…" Their eyes met and held. "What about it?" God, the guy was a freaking rock… no wait, given the size of him more like a _mountain_. "Any of it real?" The question came out hesitantly, she was willing to believe if he said it was… but obviously really preferred it not to be. Franny looked more than a little scared to hear his answer. "We lost our mom in a fire when I was six months old. The rest is just a hobby of our Dad's. He's got a thing for urban legends, folklore and supernatural type stuff. Whether it's real or not is anybody's guess."

Well, it wasn't a _total _lie.

She blinked once, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully taking the time to consider whether or not to believe him… and then just let the journal go. Face a total blank, it was impossible to tell what she had decided to believe. Sam, ever the gentleman even when upset, nodded his thanks and turned to Dean. "We'd better head up."

Dean made no move to get up from his chair. He looked thoughtfully from Sam to Fran. "What, so soon?"

Sam's eyes went wide… did he think…? Oh hell no. Three long strides and he was gripping his brother by the arm and all but physically hauling him out the door. Dean for his part just shook him off laughing.

They were in the elevator on their way to where Cal was waiting for them when Dean turned to his brother. "That was one hell of a poker face she had on there huh?"

Sam scowled "Yeah."

"So, uh, you think she bought it?"

"I don't know. I sure as hell hope so. Maybe she'll just go home now."

"Yeah, right. Not likely. Chick is pretty stubborn… I don't see her heading back anytime soon." Quick glance to a brooding, moody Sam next to him. "That, uh, going to be a problem?"

Was it even _possible _to frown and scowl at the same time? Sam was sure giving it his best shot. Dean couldn't stifle the grin, though God knows he tried.

"Only if she decides to try the catburglar routine again."

Dude wasn't fooling anyone. Dean knew his brother inside out. Sam was doing a damn fine job of denying it to himself but it was pretty clear that there was some kind of spark there…

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**_Glad to see you all are enjoying my fic! Can't wait to read your reviews for chapter six. :)_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

"That was fast. How'd it go? Am I going to have to go back down there and get the book from her for you boys?"

Sam just pulled the journal out from where he'd tucked it under his arm and showed it to her. "You're kidding! She just handed it over to you?" Something wasn't right here. Fran just wasn't the type to give something up like that.

"Well, not exactly. She was pretty mad and tried lying about even having it first. By the way sweetheart, Fran? _Terrible _liar. Good thing she didn't buy into the hunting stuff because she would totally give us away." Aha, there it was. That indefinable thing that just wasn't right was now plainly obvious.

"Wait, Dean. Are you saying she found out about the hunting? How the hell did _that _come up?"

"Fran read the Journal Cal. Front to back I'll bet. She, uh, wasn't sure whether or not to believe any of it so I told her it was just a hobby of Dad's." Oh thank God. Last thing she needed was Franny packing her shotgun back home with rock salt and telling people that Casper and the Ghostbusters were actually _real_.

"You think she bought it Sam?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure she did."

Good. Well, mostly good. She thinks. Still, maybe she ought to swing by and see Fran before leaving… just to be sure. Maybe she could convince Fran to head back home…or at least switch hotels. This one seemed to have a bit of a pest control situation… the transparent deadly kind.

"Okay then. Guess that's one problem solved right? I just talked to the security guards upstairs… turns out they're pretty loose lipped when they're staring down a bit of cleavage." Dark flash of something mildly resembling jealousy in the depths of hardened whisky colored eyes. Heh heh, she'd have to make up to Dean for that one later…her own eyes flashed brightly at the prospect. Oh, the fun she was going to have!

"Oh?" Was the only sound _he_ managed, voice just as dark as the look he'd given her and more than a little gravelly.

"Yeah." Flash a brilliant smile and distract the guy, maybe it'll distract him enough to forget the jealous bit. "There's an old ghost story dating back to the late 1920's just before the Depression. A Broadway Diva named Marilyn something was staying here at the hotel with her husband. Story goes that they'd taken separate rooms so she could rest up without distractions between shows. Second or third night in she got lonely apparently and went to go find her husband. Seems he got lonely first because she found the guy in bed with one if her co-stars. Well, she was so pissed off that she shot the girl and her husband and then turned the gun on herself."

"How does that tie in to the murder then? The couple that died were exactly that, a couple. No cheating involved. At least none that we've heard of so far. It doesn't fit…"

"Well, I was thinking maybe the connection was the room itself…but it gets better. The ghost story? That's all it is, a _story._ There've been murders here, sure. All hotels have to deal with something like this sometime… but that Marilyn woman never stayed here… and she died in 1936, a good seven years after the murder/suicide was supposed to have happened. Also, there haven't been any actual ghost sighting either. No weird noises or electrical type problems. Nothing."

"Great. So I guess it's time to hit public records then huh?" Just what Dean wanted to do right now, pour over dusty old record books with plenty of time to fume over some greasy security guard sizing up _his Cal's breasts_. Well, maybe it wouldn't be a total loss. They could start at the local library…in which case there were plenty of places where he could pull Cal away from prying eyes and show her exactly who ought to be the one eyeing her assets. He'd have her moaning so loud they might just get kicked out…heh heh.

"Yep." She went on, oblivious to the devious plans Dean was already plotting to put in motion. "You two mind going ahead? I'd like to stop in and see Fran, see if she's headed home soon. I'd rather not have her staying here with an angry ghost roaming the halls."

Well, there went _that_ x-rated plan.

"Sure. Whatever." Yeah, Dean was definitely annoyed.

"Wait, shouldn't we go with you then?" And Sam was acting _weird_. Since when did he actually _want _to have anything to do with Fran?

"Why on earth for?" and that left Cal confused. Which was not a frequent occurrence and certainly not something she enjoyed. Dean though, knowing what he did, was grinning widely.

"Yeah Sam. Why would she need _us _along?" Nudging Sam lightly with his elbow Dean waggled his eyebrows knowingly, which only confused Cal more because she had no idea what was going on.

Sam shot his brother a dirty look, nostrils flaring and doing his best imitation of an angry bull thinking of charging. "Never mind. Let's just get going. The more we dig up on this ghost the better." Dude was embarrassed. Wasn't sure if Dean knew… well he knew Dean _suspected_… but still wasn't sure if he _knew…_ Hell, Sam wasn't real sure he knew what he felt himself. Still, he had no doubt that his brother would milk this for all it was worth. Maybe this was karmic payback for the Britney Spears thing…?

Cal watched Sam leave the room as quickly as he'd come in and just as moody. Dean moved in close and kissed her quickly but thoroughly before following suit with a wink and a smile. Words of concern and caution falling softly from those lips as he left. "Be careful sweetheart." Knowing full well she would be… but needing to say the words anyway. Apparently this relationship thing was making him soft. Oh well… time enough to think it through later… right now he had a ghost to hunt and a brother to pester.

* * *

Fran was actually smack in the middle of packing up her things when Cal's finally knocked on her door. Not because she planned to head home… but because she'd finally heard about the murders. No _way _she was staying somewhere where people were being mysteriously murdered in their sleep. Some of the details she'd managed to worm out of the front desk guy were just a little too close to the dreams she'd had the night before…and the police didn't have any suspects… or even a direction to go in with the investigation. They didn't even have the murder weapon for God's sake! Fran wasn't supposed to know that though. No one but the hotel staff and the police were supposed to know that. What was it about security guards and cleavage? I mean _seriously_.

There was barely enough time for Fran to acknowledge the knock and Cal was already opening the door and strutting into her room. That girl never changed. "You , uh, ever hear of a little thing called courtesy? Most people wait for the door to open before just walking right in."

"Meh, since when I am like most people?" Cal was blissfully unbothered by Fran's comment. Rules always just kind of bent for that girl and she was okay with that.

"Those Winchester boys are a terrible influence, you know that?"

"Nah, I think it's more the other way around. Sam and Dean are actually pretty sweet… just don't tell them I said so. Especially Dean. It'll go to his head and I'll never hear the end of it."

Cal took in the mess that had become the room and the open suitcase on the bed. "Soo… you finally decide to head back home?"

"No."

"Then, uh, what's all this?" Graceful wave of the hand in the general direction of…well all of it.

"I'm switching hotels. No way I'm staying at a hotel where random murders happen while you sleep. Actually I was thinking about maybe renting a little studio apartment… you know, since you _still _won't tell me what's going on. I figure since I'm not leaving until you do and you're so darned stubborn it'll probably be cheaper and probably a whole lot more comfortable in the long run." Not to mention she wouldn't have to answer to anyone should she decided to sprinkle a little salt around… you know, just in case… but she wasn't about to tell Cal that now was she?

Well, that was good news… sort of. On the one hand Fran would be out of harms way here… on the other she'd be constantly underfoot all over New York. Not so good. Yeah, definitely time to hit the road again. Just as soon as they got to the bottom of this little ghost problem that had popped up.

"You're just wasting your time Franny. How long do you expect to keep this up before the bar starts suffering without you there?"

"You're kidding right? Cal, you are the number one reason I have had to renovate and repair that place close to a dozen times in the last ten years… and you're worried it'll suffer without me there? Hun, that place has never been safer from harm."

It could have been a joke… should have been. Except that they both knew it was true. The newest replacement mirror Cal had installed before disappearing was proof enough of that.

To Fran this whole thing had gone far past concern… Now she just plain wanted to _know_. Why would Cal lie about where she was going? Why would she give out phony phone numbers… and use a different name? And all this supernatural type stuff…? In the Journal she'd read the night before and in her apartment? The apparent thing she and the Winchesters had for odd weaponry… Yeah, if she went home now _without_ answers she'd never be able to sleep again.

"So, I noticed you have a nice big apartment… and that couch of yours was _huge_. You're more of a big city girl than I thought Cal. I was thinking it would be a whole lot easier for me to spy on you if I were to crash there…"

Fran did _not _just suggest… "No… oh no. Definitely not! Besides… since when have I ever been one to make things easy?"

Fran just shrugged her shoulders and smiled. She'd known what the answer would be… still, it was worth a shot right? And the look of shock on Cal's face? Priceless.

* * *

Dean and Sam were sitting across from each other at a small table somewhere at the back of the library. There were so many books piled up between them Dean was sure the table would buckle and fall.

"Since when are there entire libraries dedicated to acting?"

Sam just rolled his eyes. "It's the New York Library for the Performing Arts Dean. It's more than just acting… and it's the best place to look for information about anything Broadway."

Yeah, and wasn't _that_ just his favorite subject in the universe? First Cal with her 'Phantom of the Opera' and now this case…ugh. He wasn't even pretending to look into the books anymore. Instead he scribbled away on the notepad Sam had tossed at him when they first sat down and thought about all the creative ways he could kill the damned spirit off when they finally figured out who or what it was.

"Dean… what _is _that?"

"What's _what_?"

"That symbol you just drew… dude I've seen that before. What is it?"

He'd drawn a symbol? Hadn't even been paying attention really… though now that he looked at it… "Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it? Wasn't that the sigil thing… the one that brought the thought form to life in Richardson a while back?"

"Yeah, the spirit sigil…" the one that had brought Mordecai to life.

"Huh. Well. That's weird." Especially since the last time Dean had seen it was just that morning.

"Yeah, that tulpa stuff is pretty intense even by our standards." Sam had already turned back to the book he'd been reading through.

"No, actually what's weird is that I've seen it recently… like this morning."

Well _that_ got his attention. Sam's head snapped up, eyes meeting Dean's over the stack of books. "Where'd you see it?"

"In Fran's room at the hotel… on the inside of her door."

Dean didn't even have the time to blink, Sam was headed out to the car and he was running to try to keep up. Apparently they were heading back to the hotel again.

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**_Reviews please! Let me know you're still following the fic and if you're still enjoying it_******


	8. Chapter 8

Hi everyone! So, I know it's been awhile since I've updated last... good news is that I've got well about six chapters for you guys tonight. I know, I know that an _awful lot _of fic to read. I'm hoping you guys won't mind too much. : ) Take your time with it, reviews please to let me know how you liked or didn't like it and as always hope you enjoy!

_**

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****Chapter Eight**_

They didn't knock. They just walked right in like the room was theirs or something. Franny made a mental note to not give out her room number at the new hotel. Was this why Cal had used a pseudonym for the apartment? Even her friend was surprised to see Sam and Dean walk in like that. Good, at least she wasn't the only one.

Dean was all smiles "Hey sweetheart! We, uh, finished up sooner than we thought so we're here to give you a ride home."

"But… I brought my own car." What the hell was going on with those two today?

"Okay then, you can give _me _a ride back." Was he flirting with her? Not that she was complaining… but they wouldn't have just come busting in like that unless something big had come up. Then she saw Sam turn toward the door and take a small piece of paper off of it.

She watched as Sam brushed past Dean and the paper shifted from one set of hands to another. Dean looked down at his palm where the paper now lay and his expression hardened. So, she was right. Something was up.

"M'Afraid I can't do that either hun. Fran's switching hotels. I told her I'd drive her over before heading back to 'work'.

"Really? Well that's okay. We'll all go."

Did he somehow manage to go temporarily insane between the time he left the hotel and now? "Why all of us?"

"Oh, well you know. There was a murder upstairs. Not really something that's easy to deal with even if Fran here didn't know the folks right? She, uh, needs her friends around her…?"

"Aw, Dean. I had no idea you _cared_." This lovely bit of sarcasm coming of course from Franny. Hey, he was _trying_ here. Whatever happened from this point on there was no way they were leaving that girl alone until they figured out just what exactly the sigil had to do in all this stuff.

"I think I can handle it on my own thanks hun." And that coming dry-voiced from Cal.

"You know what? How about you two work out just who exactly is going to 'escort' me over to the other hotel. I'm gonna grab a quick shower while you duke it out, alright?" Enough was enough already.

As soon as the muffled sound of the spray of water could be heard through the door they all started talking at once.

"What the hell is going on guys?" (Cal)

"We can't leave her alone." (Dean)

"I thought you said she wasn't into supernatural type stuff?" (Sam)

"Wait. What do you mean by _that_ Sam? Of course she's not into the stuff."

Sam tore the piece of hotel stationery out of Dean's hand and flashed the spirit sigil at Cal.

"Is that…? That's not what I think it is, is it?!?"

"Well Cal, if you think it's a spirit sigil used by Tibetan Monks to bring Tulpa's to life…then yes. Yes it is."

Dean gave Sam a warning glare to cool the hell off and then tried to soften the blow. "Which is why we can't leave Franny alone. Just in case it had something to do with this mess."

"Okay." Cal was looking around the room absently, trying to sort through her thoughts and sort out some sort of plan.

"Okay… so she can't be left alone. You guys have some experience with this Tulpa stuff right? So why don't I stay with her while you two go ahead and do the research so we can find out if that's what this really is?"

Oh no, no, no. That wasn't any fun. Dean had a _better _idea.

"No. You know the city a whole lot better than either of us do. You've got contacts we wouldn't have a clue about. One of us should stay with Fran… like Sam. Sam should stay with her."

Sam glared at his brother. "No. Dean… just no. Why me? I mean, wouldn't you be the better choice? You _hate_ the research bit."

"Because you can get further with a couple of hours working on a laptop then a few days in any library. _I'm _the people person. Whatever I can't find I can find someone who'll find it for me."

"He's got a point Sam." Cal really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure Fran had taken John's journal…but she'd given it back right? And it wasn't as if she'd gone out and knowingly taken what was theirs. She'd thought it belonged to Cal for God's sake. Oh, and that bruise Fran had left on Sam's cheek? As far as Cal was concerned he shouldn't hold it over her. After all, she herself had thrown a few punches…and, um, a knee, in Dean's direction. It was kind of an occupational hazard wasn't it?

"Dude, you're not a people person. You're a shameless flirt. The two of you will be fighting like a couple of high school kids. Nothing'll get done." It was a last ditch effort. And it failed.

"Um, excuse me? I think I deserve a little more credit than that thanks." Cal was a little insulted. No surprise there, except in that he'd somehow managed to seal his fate instead of worm his way out of it. "That's it, you're taking Fran over to the Met and staying with her. We'll call you when we get something."

Dean gave Sam a big smug grin.

Oh, he'd known _exactly_ what he was doing.

Sam looked like he was going to hit him. Cal of course, got in the way of that. "We'll, uh, take off now. If you have any trouble getting her to let you stay awhile have her call me. I'll work it out for you. Okay?"

Sam still just glared helplessly over her shoulder at Dean, who was actually damn near _giggling_.

Then, just as they were walking out Dean turned and tossed something over at his brother. He caught a handful of keys on a ring just in time with the door closing and Dean's last words drifting in the air of the now empty room. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

* * *

Fran stepped out of the bathroom about ten minutes later in clean clothes with a towel. "What happened, you pick the short straw on this one?" she asked him when she realized the room was empty except for Sam.

"No, uh, I thought I'd give them a little time to themselves for a change." Okay, so that one _was_ and all-out lie. Somehow he just didn't think the truth would cut it this time around. Not that she bought the lie anyway.

"Uh-huh. Sure you did." Well, he supposed it was completely uncommon for people their age to be cynical. Still, he didn't really expect Fran to be. For some reason the girl he'd met at the bar weeks ago seemed far more light hearted than that.

She was struggling to zip up her a big piece of overstuffed luggage. The towel in her hair kept coming around and smacking her in the face and she just got more and more frustrated. He didn't even realize he'd moved but suddenly he was next to her, reaching around her to help. "Here, you go on and finish up so we can get going. I'll get this for you." His voice was deep, soft and completely unexpected right next to her ear. They were both startled by the reaction.

Fran jumped a little, and Sam. Sam just went stock still until she moved past him and back toward the bathroom. Dean's voice rang in his ears even if he was nowhere near enough to speak the words. 'Sammy, dude, you're in some _serious_ trouble.'


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

The roar of the Impala's engine was the only sound between them. Sam was swimming in thoughts of Tulpa's, Sigil's and cross arguments with himself on whether or not it was possible for _one person_ to bring a thought form to life. As if that wasn't enough he was also considering the different ways he could hurt Dean next time he was close enough to get his hands on him… Only one possible reason for Dean to toss him the keys to the Impala instead of the ones for Cal's Mustang. That one reason had everything to do with Fran.

Not that he didn't like the girl…you know, when she wasn't trying to kill him or stealing their stuff. They'd shared a few interesting conversations before leaving Cal's home town. If things were different for him yeah, he might want to give it a shot. Of course…if things were different… Jess would still be alive… and that was exactly why this thing Dean was trying to hook up for him wasn't going to happen. Sam was already responsible for one death, two really if he counted Mom. And he most certainly did, though he'd never admit it to his brother. God, the nightmares of Jess on that ceiling were still haunting him. Probably always would. No way he would let anything like that happen again.

"You are the _loudest _quiet person I have ever met." How long had she been staring at him like that? With that amused little smile on her face.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You're kidding right? Those thoughts of yours were so loud I could hear gears grinding."

Sam just smirked at her. "Yeah, well I've got lots to think about."

"Mm-hm, I'll bet. Anything you're interested in sharing? As a bartender I've had loads of experience listening… and I have a firm confidentiality policy in case you're worried it'll make the trashy magazines in the morning."

"What, you wouldn't prefer just reading my journal?"

Alright, so it had been a low blow. Apparently Cal had been rubbing off on him. It was the first thing that came to mind as a deflection… and he _needed _deflection because for a minute there he'd been tempted to tell her everything. Lucky for him Fran was used to dealing with Cal and her diversionary tactics. Helped that she had a sense of humor too.

"I'd rather get it straight from the source, so to speak… but yeah. If you've got one and you're offering…"

"Sure you wouldn't rather break into Cal's place again, punch me in the face and steal it?" Impossible to tell if he was joking or not. He had his brood face on and apparently it wasn't coming off.

"Depends, you like it rough big boy?" She deadpanned sounding every bit the bartender he'd met up in Canada. He couldn't answer. No way. In fact she had him laughing so hard he actually had to pull the car over.

"Should I take that as a yes?" she asked innocently.

"Not if it means you're going to come at me with a bat…or your fists again." He somehow managed to choke out.

That one made _Fran_ laugh. "Guess I did do a pretty good job on your face, didn't I?" It was a quiet chuckle "In my defense I thought you were a burglar."

"Sure, what are the odds that two people would break into the same place in one night?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking at the time and I _would_ have stopped and asked questions but dude… have you looked at yourself lately? You're _huge_! I don't know a girl in her right mind who wouldn't have struck first in the interest of self preservation."

Of course he hadn't thought of it that way… but now that she'd said it he could see where she was coming from.

Franny was ridiculously pleased with the laughter she'd managed to pry out of him and noted with satisfaction the understanding that shone in his eyes with her explanation. Yeah, maybe she could work with this guy. Couldn't hurt to invite him up for coffee… worst case she could pump him for information. It'd be a nice challenge compared to the men she'd met here so far considering all it had taken was a cleavage flash and a bit of flirting to turn them to mush.

"What do you say we call a truce?"

There was a hint of suspicion there now, carefully hidden behind the smile. She saw it though and filed it away like everything else she'd learned about him so far.

"A truce?" he asked carefully, clearly needing an explanation.

"Yeah, a truce. It occurs to me that in my initial um, concern for Cal's safety I might have been a tad bit hasty in my assessment of you Winchesters."

She wanted a truce did she? Yeah, there was definitely more to this. Still… it might create the opportunity he needed to stick around and keep an eye on her.

" A 'tad bit hasty' is a bit of an understatement in my opinion… but yeah. I could handle a truce."

"Good, because you're coming up to have coffee with me when we get to the hotel and I'd really rather not have to resort to throwing punches again. I think I might have bruised my knuckles on your cheekbone last night."

"Ha! Your knuckles? They ain't got nothing on my face Fran. Have you seen the size of this bruise?"

_Heh heh. The bigger they are… _

Fran didn't have to say the words. They were clearly implied in the smug look she sent his way.

* * *

Cal and Dean had split up. They'd flipped a coin for the research and Cal had lost which meant she was the one pouring over the books. Dean had dropped her off before heading over to public records to dig up a little more information on the hotel, this Marilyn woman and any suspicious deaths that might have happened at the Belleclaire since it opened.

The woman behind the desk was a blonde, blue-eyed vixen with the assets of a Playboy supermodel. It wasn't hard to flirt her up enough to get access to the records he needed, and a lot of information he didn't. He was starting to understand why Sam got annoyed with him so much. Why did he need to know that she's a Cancer, or anything about her three dogs and two cats? And by the way? No _way_ those puppies were real… and still he walked out of there with copies of death certificates, police reports, court documents and of course Tracy's phone number.

Hm, were Taurus' and Cancers compatible? If things didn't work out for Sammy with Fran… and he decided not to go check out that waitress at Starbucks… maybe he could drag him down here and introduce him to Tracy?

Sitting behind the wheel of the Mustang he flipped open his phone and dialed Cal before starting it up. "Hey. Just got out."

"Did you find anything?"

"Nothing. The place's seen lots of action over the years… only the two murders though and they were ten years apart. One was a producer…guy was so single I doubt he even knew what a date was. The other was a bodyguard protecting one of the divas that was staying at the hotel. Absolutely nothing to tie in to that couple or even the room they were in."

There was a frustrated growl on the other end that was so classically Cal it made him smile. "I take it the research isn't going so well?"

"No, not really."

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Two sets of eyes are always better than one."

He could feel her relief right through the phone. Okay, sounds like someone needs a smile…

"Uh, Cal? Totally off topic but I was wondering…you know anything about astrology and stuff?"

"A little… why, you think it this whole thing might have something to do with moon phases or something?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. There was this…well her name's Tracy and she's a Cancer and Sam's a Taurus and I was wondering…"

Cal was laughing so hard that Dean actually heard the librarian shushing her.

_Bingo_. Mission Accomplished.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter Ten**_

"Jesus these are heavy. What the heck did you put in there anyway?" He'd lifted dead bodies that weighed less than the two suitcases he was now.

"Just some clothes… a couple of books... makeup…and six pairs of shoes…"

Okay, first of all: six pairs of shoes? What the hell was she going to do with _six pairs?_ And second? No way that's all she'd packed. There had to be something else in there because clothes, makeup and a 'couple of books' did _not_ get this heavy. Ever.

"Right." He muttered under his breath, not really caring if she heard him or not. Truce be damned.

"You don't believe me?"

"No, I don't. My girlfriend Jess and I…we used to pack up a suitcase sometimes, toss it into the trunk and just drive all weekend. See where it took us. She used to have to pack a bit of everything because we never knew what we'd end up doing. Her suitcase never felt this heavy."

Girlfriend? Damn. That. Man. He sure wasn't acting like a guy with a girlfriend. Oh God, what if he was one of those 'open relationship' types? It took everything she had to suppress the groan, covering it instead with what she hoped came out as lighthearted laughter. Strange that what she really felt was disappointment.

Okay Franny, be honest with yourself girl. Not that strange considering last night you were all but drooling over way he _smells_. Speaking of which… was that aftershave? Because if it was… she was definitely picking up a bottle of the stuff…should be illegal to smell so good. Wait. Did he say something? Dammit girl, concentrate. Distraction is _not_ an option here.

"Huh? What was that?" She asked, shaking herself out of thoughts better left alone.

"I said: sure you don't have the kitchen sink in there? Or some bricks maybe?" He didn't know what she'd been thinking about just then but that pretty flushed blush that spread over her cheeks told him it was something pretty interesting.

"Nope, no sink and no bricks." She brushed past him in that way of hers, just barely touching but not really, to get to the front desk. God, being around her was driving him crazy.

"If you say so." He ground out from between clenched teeth as he followed her.

She was _flirting_ with the clerk at the desk? Sam knew that eye flutter, that slow smile. Now, was that _really_ necessary? He'd seen Cal do it…for information and to drive Dean crazy. That he could understand. But this was totally random flirting for the sake of flirting. Made him resist some nearly uncontrollable urges such as grabbing the room key from the guy's hand, tossing her over his shoulder and hauling her away. Hell, at this point it was all he could do not to reach over and hit the guy for flirting right back.

And it was ridiculous really. Totally absurd. Because he didn't like Fran that way. Couldn't. And even if he did he would never act on it because to do that was to practically hand her to the damned demon on a silver platter. Hell, he might as well set her on fire himself. So this was stupid, this reaction of his. This anger and jealousy. Because there was no way she was ever going to be with him…so why the hell shouldn't she flirt with the guy? Or any other guy for that matter?

He knew the answer. It was clear even if he didn't want it to be. Even if it would never happen. Sam didn't want her flirting with other men because Sam wanted Fran for himself. Dean knew it. Had to. Dean knew at that's why he was off somewhere with Cal researching their current job and Sam was here _with her._ Conflicted was not a strong enough word for what Sam Winchester was currently feeling. Because really? None of things that he currently wanted to do were anywhere within the realm of possibility. Murdering his brother wasn't an option…and what he wanted to do with Franny? Well it just wasn't going to happen. Period.

By the time they actually got in the elevator a few minutes later he was back to moody, brooding Sam… silently berating himself for feelings he just couldn't control.

* * *

Something had happened to that boy. Sometime between parking that gorgeous beast of a car and getting into the elevator he'd gone from light and teasing to dark and brooding. _Not _that Fran was complaining because moody on Sam? Moody made funny things flutter around her insides and that, in her books, was a very good thing. As disappointed as she was that he was off limits…well, girlfriend or no there was nothing stopping her from _looking_ was there? She didn't think any woman in her right mind could possibly _not_ look. In fact Franny was having a really hard time understanding how Cal could possibly fall for loud, obnoxious Dean instead of _Sam. _

So what was it? What had happened for the guy to go all quiet and brooding like that? As attractive as he was the frown she could do without. There had been the teasing about the weight of her luggage. He'd mentioned that girl of his…Jess was it? She'd been distracted by the way he smelled… yeah. The thought of it alone made her sigh happily.

And then she'd collected the key. And that's right about when that big beautiful smile petered out and disappeared. Apparently she needed to get to the bottom of this girlfriend thing because unless she was mistaken this had something to do with that girl he'd mentioned. Otherwise she would have called it jealousy over the shameless flirting she'd turned onto the kid at the desk and that just made no sense at all.

Sam didn't look like he wanted to talk right now though. No, actually he looked like he would much rather tear into something with his bare hands. This guy took it to a whole new level. Forget handsome… try tall, dark and _dangerous. _Gah. Yeah. Dangerous thoughts girl, dangerous thoughts.

So as soon as they stepped through the door of her tiny suite Fran took her things from Sam and made a beeline for her room. She needed higher ground and an opportunity to get it together away from that man. "I'm, ah, going to unpack. Could you, uh, start a pot of coffee? Or order it in from room service or something?"

Sam gave her a strange look "Um, yeah. Sure. Anything you'd prefer?"

"Not really, I'm easy." Oh _God_ she had so not just said that. Cheeks flaming red again she practically ran the rest of the way to the bedroom.

Sam, well Sam was determined _not _to smile smugly to himself even as just the one corner of his mouth just barely twisted up igniting the slightest hint of dimple. Well it wasn't smug… but there was no denying the 'satisfied' because that blush? Yeah, it really was.

* * *

"So, I made some calls on the drive over and I got something interesting that supports the ghost theory. If we're lucky that's what it'll be…because those tulpas? Not fun to deal with."

Cal had been waiting out front when Dean had pulled into the lot at the library, a stack of paper in her arms. Photocopies of what she'd run across on tulpas and thought forms. It had been difficult even to get those because when Dean had made her laugh that anal librarian had wanted to kick her out. _Some people just had no sense of humor._

"Okay, so what'd you find?"

They were headed back home. Cal was looking forward to getting back. To having some time alone, even if they'd just be pouring over paper.

"Jebadiah, and his wife Elizabeth." God she loved that lazy, cocky smile of his.

"And they are?"

"The original owners of the hotel." Aha! This was sure to be good.

"Let me guess, Jebadiah wasn't what one would call 'faithful'?"

Dean chuckled at her irritated tone earning himself _one of those looks_ which only made him want to laugh more.

"Actually, the guy was rumored to chase after just about anything that moved. Apparently his wife didn't mind as long as he came back to her and their room every night… until he stopped doing even that. Well, she found out he'd taken another room. Elizabeth, being a girl and all, decided to go and talk to him…and found him in bed with one of the girls he'd just hired on to the hotel cleaning staff. Guess what happened next?"

Irritation was quickly replaced with that 'gotcha' look she had.

"She pulled a gun on them, killed 'em both in anger and then herself..."

"...and presto an angry, vengeful spirit is born."

"which might just be enough to blow this whole thought form theory right out of the water…right?" Cal sounded hopeful and though she was doing a really good job at hiding it he could tell that there was fear there too. Fear for Cal's safety.

"I'm hoping." Leaning over and kissing her lightly and touching her cheek. "We couldn't help what happened to Billie and JC, though god knows that JC guy had it coming. No way we could have stopped it. Franny though… you don't have to worry about her, okay? She's switched hotels, Sam's with her and she's got the three of us watching out for her. Nothing's going to happen."

Leaning in she kissed him back, partly to thank him for reassuring her without her having to say a word… mostly to hide the reaction she was afraid he might be able to read in her eyes. _Sure, nothings gonna happen to her… this time. What about next time though? _If there was one thing Cal had learned over the years it was that there's always a next time.

* * *

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	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

So now they had a new plan. To be able to rule out the tulpa Cal and Dean would have to stake out the Belleclaire and get a look at this ghost. If it truly turned out to be the ghost of Elizabeth hunting old unfaithful Jeb then it was just a matter of warding it off long enough to burn the bones…which they had already located.

So far there were two big issues with said plan. First one was that Cal and Dean would have to spend the night in a rented room at the ritzy hotel. Not much of a problem right? Unless you take into account the fact that those two shared the tendency to get bored really quickly. Cal and Dean, alone in a posh hotel room and bored out of their minds? Yeah, they would find something to do alright… of course that would mean they'd get distracted. Then who would be watching out for the ghost? Hmm. Yeah. Definitely an issue.

Second one was that the cemetery where Elizabeth and Jebadiah were buried was a forty-five minute drive away. Granted that a forty-five minute drive translated to an even twenty by Winchester standards, twenty-five by O'Sullvan's. Still that was close to half an hour warding off an angry spirit toting a very lethal if transparent gun. That one? That one was the big dilemma. In fact that one had Cal thinking they ought to split up. One of them sit tight at the cemetery and the other at the hotel. Dean had other ideas though… he was of the impression that they should try to draw 'Liz out by getting the room as a couple.

"So you want us to give ourselves up as bait? Is that what you're saying Dean… because I've got to say, I'm not exactly comfortable with that."

"Why not? It's a sound enough plan…" Sure it was. It kept Cal safely in his sights where he could keep her out of harms way. He remembered that last hunt far too clearly. The hospital time they'd had to put in… yeah, he wasn't about to just let something like that happen again.

"_My _plan is better. There's only the one couple staying here tonight. If the ghost is gonna go after anyone it'll be them right? We could finish this so much faster if one of us stays here and the other does the salt and burn at the cemetery."

"You just want to be the one to get first crack at it."

Okay, so maybe Dean was right. She was itching to hurt something. Something transparent and murderous. They had taken far too long to get back into the swing of the hunting gig and now she'd got a whiff of a new job Cal wanted a good fight. Whether it was the salt and burn or warding off Casper while Dean did it she didn't really care. As long as she got to pump some rock salt into the damned thing it was all good.

"Maybe not _first_ but I definitely want to do some serious damage." I mean, that was the fun part right?

Dean could only let out a huff of a breath. Damned but he couldn't find an argument for that one.

Cal's plan it was. She would have preferred the salt and burn… more action there than at the hotel because once Dean set the bones on fire that ghost would be putting up one hell of a fight. Still, the hotel wasn't such a bad deal. Any sound excuse to pump out a few rounds of rock salt was fine by her.

* * *

In another hotel across the city a man and a woman sat across from each other in a tiny kitchenette to enjoy a couple of hot coffees. Was it their second or third? Neither knew or cared. They'd been talking for hours already, oblivious of time or even the sun setting leaving the city in darkness. Simply enjoying each others company.

"So, how did those two hotheads meet anyway?" Fran was still having a difficult time with the concept of Cal settling down with anyone at all, let alone _Dean_.

"She needed our help…for a job." He didn't say what kind, refused to give her any type of detail. Their work had simply been described as 'the job'.

"Dean and I, we're ah not exactly the easiest guys to find… kind of an occupational hazard actually. Cal finally caught up with us just as we were finishing up a job and jumped right into it to help us out. Well, she got caught up in the crossfire and got hurt and when Dean tried to help her up and check if she was okay… haha, she, uh, kneed him where he'd feel it the most."

Well, that got Fran laughing. Hard. With tears streaming down her cheeks. Yeah, that sounded about right. Cal had never exactly been one to sit back and do the 'damsel in distress' type thing.

"…and then…" and oh god, there was more? "…the next day we went out to the local bar. God, you should have seen his face when she came out of that bathroom barely wearing that thing she called a _blouse_…"

Sam was having a jolly old time telling the story, even if he did have to hold back some of the little details like what they had really been doing.

"Anyway, you know her well enough to know what happens when you put Cal in a bar right? Sure enough this giant steroid cowboy from hell decides he wants to take her home. Whether she wanted to or not. Haha, Oh my God…she took the guy down _twice_ and then decked Dean for helping her out… 'I told you I had the guy Dean'" Sam mimicked Cal's angry voice just about causing Fran to spray coffee all over the place. "Took two days for the swelling around his eye to go away…and he still had the bruising about a week later."

Sometime during the conversation his big warm had covered one of hers and the heat of it was just enough to make her feel just a little bit warm and fuzzy. Once it found it's place there the hand didn't move. Franny wasn't about to say anything about it either. It was just a hand after all right? Nothing that felt that good could possibly be wrong.

"I, ah, was pretty sure that was it for him right there. He'd literally fallen for her right there in the middle of the bar…I wasn't sure about how she felt about it until about a day later when she stole his car and ran off…"

"She _stole_ the _Impala_?" Now, there was just no excuse for that… except that now she was thinking about it…driving that car? Oh yeah. It would totally be worth Dean's wrath.

And it went on… Sam telling her stories about Dean, Cal, even his Dad. Not much…but enough to share a bit of his life. Sure, there was plenty of omission when it came to the supernatural stuff that was ever present in his life… but he didn't lie and that in itself he hoped would make it okay.

Those eyes… he kept getting lost in those eyes. Somewhere wrapped up in that incredible laughter of hers his hand had found hers of its own volition and now he couldn't tear it away even if he'd wanted to.

Fran for her part kept leaning in a bit closer. Yeah, she was totally obsessed with his scent. No way she could deny it to herself…only hoped she wasn't being too obvious about it.

Sam, she noticed very quickly, had these big dark expressive eyes that could melt…well just about anything. Was she melting under their scrutiny. Hell yes! And god help her she was enjoying every second of it.

How did it happen? Well, neither one of them was really sure about the answer to that one. Somehow they'd made their way from the kitchenette….to the couch…and then suddenly they were in the bedroom kissing, touching, holding each other as if their very lives depended on that contact.

They were drowning… they were falling…they were saving each other and neither knew exactly from what but it didn't matter really as long as they kept doing it.

And then… as Sam bent to untie that very first button from Fran's blouse they both heard the snap of the clasp opening and it echoed so loudly in the silence that it might as well have been a gunshot.

Two people, one identical thought: _Oh my God what the hell am I doing?_

Too fast, Franny thought to herself. This was going _way_ too fast…and _god_ help her but the man had a _girlfriend. _She didn't know whether she ought to laugh, cry, scream or just keep kissing him.

Too dangerous… for her, was what Sam was thinking. He couldn't do it. Couldn't put her at risk… couldn't bear the thought that she might get hurt one day. And for what? For one night? For _him_? For a few kisses he didn't have any right to be sharing with her? For more? God forbid something should come of this and he start to feel as much for her as he had for… and just the _hint_ of a thought of what _could _eventually happen to her was enough to stop him before they went past the point of no return.

"Fran…"

She was looking at him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. He could see the fear there, the hesitation. As vocal as Franny usually was not a sound came from her as she waited to hear what he said next.

"…Franny… let's uh, slow this down a little okay?"

Because neither of them wanted to just stop it entirely. Because as wrong as it seemed to be doing this at all… somehow it seemed far worse for them to stop it entirely.

Sam's own eyes were wide, clear and shining brightly. His skin flushed as pink as Fran's. _Beautiful_ Fran thought. The man had no right to look so beautiful.

"Okay…" she agreed. If they didn't slow it down now…well it might never stop. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. "so…then…what now?" It was the first time Sam had ever seen any hint of uncertainty. Suddenly all he wanted to do was just hold her and make it go away.

Well, he'd certainly had worse ideas… and it was _far_ better than what they'd just been about to do…though he was pretty sure Dean wouldn't agree. But then, what the hell did Dean know anyway?

It was the most natural thing in the world then for Sam to reach over and shut off the light. Together they lay down fully clothed, Sam tucking Fran against his large solid frame and just _holding _her feeling her breath slow, her muscles relaxing into sleep as they talked softly, comfortably into the darkness of the room. Not too much later he fell asleep himself, a contented smile painted across kiss swollen lips.

* * *

Elizabeth made her appearance at just a little past midnight and Cal was ready for her. As soon as she'd been positive the man and woman were sound asleep she'd picked the lock and snuck in. Windows and doors were salted. A large generous helping of salt also surrounded the bed they slept in. If Elizabeth truly was a ghost, and apparently she was from what Cal could currently see, these people were covered.

Of course, it wouldn't hurt to pump a couple of rock salt rounds into the transparent freak in the hallway while she waited for Dean to salt and burn across town could it? If there's one thing Cal enjoyed it was good clean fight… okay, maybe just a plain old fight.

Didn't take her long to realize that, yeah, maybe it _could _hurt to shoot at the damned thing because suddenly Cal was dodging some pretty large furniture that good old Liz seemed determined to bury her under.

As the redheaded spirit began screaming banshee-like Cal put phone to ear and called Dean. Those bones needed to be ash…like _now_. Or there might not be anything left of Cal…or the hotel once the damn thing was done.

"Yeah?" Deans voice was strained and terse. Cal could hear the dirt being shoveled and hitting the grass around the grave he was digging.

"How's it coming?"

"I just hit casket. 'Nother five…maybe ten and it'll be done…why?"

Cal had managed to hide behind a giant armoire that had somehow found its way into the hallway from an empty room nearby. Dean had to stop and hold the phone away from his ear as the ghost let out another chilling scream as she searched for Cal.

"Uh, because this girl's trying really hard pummel me to mush with large heavy objects. Any way you can speed the process up a little?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Figured. What was it with that woman? She made picking a fight with _anything _a freaking art form. He didn't bother saying anything, just put the cell phone down on the grass at eye level. The loud crashing sound of shovel breaking wooden casket lid answer enough for Cal who was busily dodging drawers being flung at her from a large, ornate antique desk.

Phone still to her ear she listened for the clicking sound of Dean's Zippo and the 'whoosh' that meant the bones had finally been ignited.

This had to be _the most painless _job either one of them had done. Elizabeth disappeared into thin air as her bones burnt halfway across the city. Never even made an appearance at the cemetery. Cal and Dean came out of the job sweaty and dirty but otherwise completely unscathed. Of course being who they were, at first they just chalked it up to skill. "Dude, that was awesome! I've never pulled anything off that smoothly before." Cal had said to Dean over the line as he was driving back to meet her at her apartment. "Yeah sweetheart… I guess we're just that good huh?" he'd laughed, trying to push away that feeling of unease. The one that was slowly creeping up the base of his spine.

Yeah… it had gone smoothly alright… could even have been considered _easy_… _too_ easy.

He had barely hung up with Cal when and he was dialing Sam. Something wasn't right here. No way to know what yet… but something rubbed him the wrong way about this… and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

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	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve**_

The hotel room was dark and quiet but for the sounds of two people breathing softly in sleep. According to the clock on the wall it was just past midnight. She'd been there before, Fran thought briefly. This was one of the rooms at the Belleclaire. But who were those people?

Well, there wasn't really enough time for her to figure out just what in God's name she was doing in some strange people's room at a hotel she was no longer staying in. Fran had turned towards the door only to see it open and the redheaded ghost woman appear. Instead of the dream acting itself out like the night before though Franny heard a gunshot, saw the rocksalt round hit the wall. Everything went white around her to the loud shrieking of the woman's spirit and then suddenly she was back home behind her bar serving drinks. Just a regular Saturday night with the locals drinking her right out of booze. Alright, now _this _was a dream she wanted to have.

It didn't last long and she was sleeping dreamlessly again… until she heard a whispering raspy voice coming from somewhere in the room. At first it was another dream. The blonde woman coming into her room… _He's mine, you hear me?_ Was this that Jessica woman? Sam's girlfriend…what was she doing here of all places?

Then there was the soft thud, thudding of footsteps as the blonde made her way across the carpeted floor toward the bed. _Going to tear you to pieces…I swear to God. _Fran's eyes were wide open now watching this stranger come towards her looking as if she were fully capable of murdering them with her bare hands.

Sam had been awake since about when Fran started shifting around restlessly in her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming didn't look like it was anything pleasant. But she'd settled down pretty quickly and he'd tucked her in against him a little closer, held her a little tighter as if to keep her safe from whatever it was that had snuck past him and into her dreams. He was watching her sleep when it happened.

It all started with Fran whimpering a name…Jess. Jess? She couldn't be talking about…no. Of course not. There were plenty of other Jess's in the world and he didn't remember mentioning her at all…and then suddenly there was this blonde woman in their room. Whatever she, _it_ was it blew in on an unearthly gust of air and started coming towards them. Fran sat bolt upright beside him as the woman started speaking words he couldn't quite make out yet.

They watched, horrified as the woman flickered, disappeared and suddenly reappeared next to Fran. _He's mine_. Sam's eyes went wide. Reacting purely on hunter's instinct he grabbed Franny up by the waist and hauled her back against him and pulled them both off the bed and across the room.

The apparition was hissing, clawing towards Fran and Sam didn't know what the hell was going on. He needed to get them out of that room. Literally picking Fran up in his arms and holding her tight against him he sprinted out the bedroom door toward the small kitchenette. Salt, they needed salt. Lots of it. _Now_.

The blonde woman flickered, disappeared and reappeared three times between the bedroom and the kitchen. Each time she reached for Franny and pulled back when Sam turned to keep her out of harms way. And what the hell was _that_ about anyway? Usually he was the _first _one to get hurt by these things. Byproduct of those psychic powers of his.

He had Fran pinned between him and the cupboards, wrapping himself shield-like around her as best he could as he reached past her and rummaged around for a box of salt…a salt shaker…anything he could use really. If he could salt the archway that was the only way in or out of the kitchen he could trap the ghost in there and get them out, back to Cal's place… to safety.

Sure that Fran thought he was nuts he couldn't help the relieved laughter that came out of him when his hand met a familiar box shape on one of the shelves. "_Thank you_ Sifto!" he whispered more to himself than to the company responsible for the box of salt he was now clutching tightly in his fist.

Fran's back to his chest, rock salt loaded gun in the hand that held her tightly there and box of salt in the other he ran them to the archway. Ripping open the top of the box he dumped out it's contents in a thick line. "What the hell are you doing Sam?" Well, apparently Fran was coming out of the shock because she'd found her voice again.

"Trapping the damned thing in there. Rock salt repels spirits." Yep, from the look on her face she definitely thought he was crazy.

"But that's _table _salt… and what's with the freaking _gun_?" There was a hint of hysteria in that voice. Not a comforting sound. Getting them out was more of a priority than calming her down though, so he just answered her and reaction be damned. He'd explain it all later.

"Table salt is refined rock salt. Works just as well. Gun has rock salt rounds…ties in with the job." His cell phone started ringing in his back pocket just as he tossed the empty white box aside and turned them both towards the door.

The spirit was screaming frantically from just beyond the archway of the kitchen "_I won't forget this Francine! He's mine! You can't hide from me... I'm still coming for you!" _

The second they'd passed through the hotel room door and Sam was positive the ghost was behind them he had his phone to his ear.

"Hullo?" he was breathing heavy from the running and his voice still had that 'just woke up' before coffee hoarseness.

"Sammy, you sly dog you. Sounds like somebody's having a really good night."

"Sure, if you consider almost being murdered in your sleep by some random blonde ghost to be a good night."

"What?!?"  
"Yeah, that was pretty much my first reaction too."

Dean must have come by to pick up the Impala before heading out because the roar of that engine was definitely _not _coming from Cal's Mustang. Big brother was coming to the rescue. Well that was okay, he had it covered already but they sure could use the ride.

Fran was pulling him in the direction of the elevators and Sam was trying to turn her toward the stairs. No _way_ they were risking it.

"No, no. The stairs." He'd been in an elevator on a job once that a spirit dropped six floors before leveling out when Dean finally lit its bones on fire. Not an experience he was willing to risk repeating.

By the time they'd managed to race down the five flights of stairs, Sam somehow finding enough breath to answer what he could of Dean's questions, the Impala was waiting for them. "Did you get it?"

"Salted it into the kitchen in Fran's suite."

"Will it hold until morning?"

"I think so…" strangely it had gone quiet as soon as they'd left the suite.

"Alright, well I'll drop you guys off and head back and put the 'do not disturb' sign up to keep the hotel employees out until we come back in the morning."

The scowl on Dean's face could be described with one word: great. As in 'great, first that ghost at the Belleclaire… too freaking easy to kill off for me to get to the bottom of… and now _this_.'

Of course, one look into the back seat where Sam had very pale and shaking Franny cuddled against him for comfort and the scowl was gone. Replaced very quickly with a wide smile and a vow to himself that just this once he wouldn't open his mouth and embarrass his little brother. Looks like his little plan had worked. _Something _was sparking up between those two. Something he was positive would be good for Sammy. Wait until Cal saw them, heh heh.

Turning up the music as subtly as he could and mentally patting himself on the back he sped them off through the night the remaining few blocks. A smug grin plastered on his face as he watched his brother playing protector in the backseat of his car.

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	13. Chapter 13

An hour later the four of them were sitting in Cal's living room. Fran sat in the middle of the couch between a worried Cal and a scared Sam wrapped in a very comfortable blanket that in her opinion was a poor substitute for big strong arms. Of course, the owner of said arms was the reason she was currently binging on Cal's Ben & Jerry's again trying to come to terms with something _huge_. To his credit he'd only left her side once and then only long enough to bring her the ice cream. Chocolate fixed a lot… but it didn't change the fact that they'd been attacked by a freaking ghost tonight. Family business eh? Ha.

"So, ah… you guys are saying you're ghostbusters then?"

Well, it wasn't the reaction she'd been going for but the soft chuckle and the quiet laughter that came from Sam and Cal was strangely comforting. Dean didn't find it so funny. That one took himself way too seriously.

"Uh, actually we're _hunters._" He corrected her. Apparently she'd annoyed him. Oh well, poor guy would just have to nurse that big ego himself.

"Hunter, ghostbuster, whatever. Point of it that I'm getting is that the stuff in that journal I read is real. Right?"

"Unfortunately…yes." This from Sam, the guy who'd saved her life.

Another spoonful of chocolate courage as she pondered what that meant and: "so basically I was lied to…_again._" Strangely Fran found herself leaning more towards anger about the lying than actual fear of the unknown.

"I didn't lie Franny. I promised you I wouldn't and I didn't." No, Cal hadn't lied. She'd just flat out refused to say anything about it at all. That was fine.

"Not you Cal." Fran tilted her head towards Sam. "Him." Then turning to the 'him' in question: "What else did you lie about then? Is your girlfriend even real?"

Wait…_what?_ He was speechless. Where the hell had _that _come from?

"When you were complaining about my luggage being so heavy you said something about weekend trips with your girlfriend Jess. This girl even real, or was that a lie too. Because it sure would explain how tonight went…you know, before see-through Barbie showed up."

The room went dead quiet. Cal's eyes went wide with surprise and Dean stood frozen on the spot, the expression on his face mirroring that of his younger brothers. Sam…well all Sam could manage was a little strangled sound of shock. Apparently she'd tossed him one he wasn't expecting.

Dean let out a long, low whistle and shuffled his feet a little before clearing his throat. "Well, uh, I think it's about time _I _hit the sack…" reaching over and grabbing Cal's hand he gave Fran a strained smile. "It's been a long night…" smirking slightly he looked from Fran to the door and all but dragged Cal out of the room. That girl had no idea what she'd just brought on to herself…and he'd be damned if he was going to get caught in _that _crossfire. Cal's angry whisper was in his ear as he pulled her past the kitchen and toward the bedroom. "What the hell was that all about?" "I'll tell you when we're out of earshot, just…let's just get to bed alright?" Thankfully she let it go at that because he could just barely hear Sam's words as he closed the door to Cal's room.

"My girlfriend Jess…" Sam's voice breaking just a little as he said her name. "…she, uh…she died…almost a year ago…"

And thank God he wasn't in the room with them because just the sound of all that hurt in Sam's voice made Dean want to break something. A lot.

* * *

Fran couldn't believe what she was hearing. I mean, she could…obviously it was true. The unshed tears in Sam's eyes weren't something that could be faked. Neither was the pain she saw so clearly etched all over him. Jessica Moore had died almost a year ago in a fire…caused by a yellow-eyed demon… the same demon that had also killed his mother…his and Dean's, in the exact same way when Sam had been only six months old. 

He blamed himself for it. That much was painfully clear even if he'd never said the words.

"You blame yourself." It was a statement that told him this girl could read him all too easily.

"Yeah, I do." Eyes downcast he studied the carpet surrounding his socks, not willing to meet her eye yet. Fearful of what he'd find there.

"Why?"

"Because…" God, how the hell was he supposed to explain the nightmares…? the visions? "Because the Demon wants this family…" _wants me _though he didn't say it. "and if I hadn't dragged her into all this just by being with her…the demon would never have gone after her. She'd be alive."

"Did she… did she know about this? The ghostbust… I mean hunting?"

"No… I wanted to protect her from all that."

Like he'd wanted to protect her. Okay, yeah… this Sam guy? She had definitely misjudged him. "Do you… do you think it would have made a difference if she did know?"

Sam's face hardened. It was a question he'd asked him self countless times since Jess had died. "Maybe…" broken whisper into the quiet of the room. "She…she might have been able to protect herself…" at least until he and Dean had got back. That's when he shut his eyes. The world was suddenly far too bright a place for him to handle with all those dark thoughts floating around in his head.

The cushions shifted as Franny got up. She was leaving. He was sure of it. Probably still angry. Hell, maybe she blamed him too. Couldn't fault her for it. God knew he deserved it.

But she didn't leave and it took him a few minutes to realize it. She was kneeling in front of him, elbows resting on his knees and face inches away from his own apparently just waiting for him to open his eyes. "Sam…" her eyes were sad and serious as they looked deeply into his own. "I know… I know there's nothing I can say to you that'll make the pain go away…and I know there's nothing I can do to make you stop blaming yourself… But, you did the right thing. Sam…you protected her the best way you knew how."

"It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough…"

"I don't think she'd see it that way. I think… I think wherever she is right now Jess knows why you kept all this from her…and I'm positive that she wouldn't blame you for any of what happened. Wouldn't want you to blame yourself either. I know I wouldn't…I don't."

Was this why Dean hated the chick flick stuff so much? Because they blew you wide open emotionally… completely exposed and vulnerable. Yeah, he could see why he'd have a firm rule against them.

She didn't blame him. Well that was something at least. And if she could believe all that pretty stuff about Jess not blaming him either… well he didn't know if he could himself, but maybe there was hope yet. Hope for his own twisted soul. God he but he _wanted _to believe it…

And then her arms were around him. He hadn't even known he was crying until he felt the dampness of her shirt beneath his cheek. She was stroking his hair, kissing the lids of his eyes, holding on to him as if she were afraid he would break if she let go. It was instinctual really… natural for his hands to come up and cup her face… and to kiss her softly…so very softly that she felt her heart would break.

"I can't Franny… I can't put you at risk like that. Can't make that choice." He whispered sadly against her hair.

"It's not your choice to make now Sam. It's mine."

Arms wrapping around her he pulled her in closer. "No… I can't live through something like that again. Can't watch you die."

"I won't…"

"You don't know that…"

"No, I don't. But I'll be ready if it comes. We'll be ready."

She really _had_ made the decision for him on this one. The realization startled him really. It was a little scary to know he didn't have a say in this one any more. Fighting this thing? It was like swimming against a riptide. The closer he fought to get to shore the farther he was swept out to sea.

"I don't know about you…" she said pulling away a little so they could look at each other. "But there is no way I'm going back to sleep tonight after… well after what happened." Laugh lines creased around her eyes and mouth and putting a soft smile on Sam's face.

"Funny you should say that because I was just thinking about how we didn't actually get around to eating anything today…" her laugh lines turned into a bright thousand watt smile. "There's uh, this great all night pizza place that delivers…I think Cal left the number on the fridge…"

Dean knew he had it bad for Cal when he found himself on his ass in the middle of a bar with the black eye she'd given him swelling up the side of his face and the steroid cowboy she'd taken down unconscious and bleeding lying right in front of him like some hunting trophy.

Sam knew he had it bad for Fran when he found himself kissing her over pizza, coffee and late night TV after telling her his entire life story… and finding out that yeah, she believed him… and that it didn't matter to her. Not in the least. Though… he did laugh when she insisted they sneak around the apartment to salt the windows and doors… and lay a circle of salt around the couch where they settled in to wait until the sun came up. You know… just in case.

They'd deal with tomorrow in the morning. Right now? Well, right now this was enough for both of them.

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	14. Chapter 14

Alright, so this is it. The last addition for tonight. You guys all still with me? hehehe Okay good, 'cause now I'm all caught up. Everything posted is everything I've got written so far...next update'll be up on Friday probably. Looking foward to your reviews. Hope this wasn't too much to post in one shot. Enjoy the read : )

* * *

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Dean barely slept at all. Didn't take him more than five minutes to sum up for Cal what he knew about Jess. It was a shock, but as a hunter coming from a family of hunters she dealt with it about as well as anyone could. They talked about Elizabeth's ghost and how easy it had been. It had been just plain weird. "Something wrong there. I know it… just can't put my finger on it…" Cal had said drowsily before exhaustion took over and she fell fast asleep.

Dean… well he wasn't so lucky. Lying there, Cal tucked warm and snug against him he just stared up at the ceiling though he didn't really see it. Mind wandering from his mother, to Sam's Jess, to _his Cal_…and when he wasn't mulling over those particularly morbid thoughts and possibilities he was going over their apparently successful hunt…because he just couldn't let it go when it felt so _unfinished._

What was it about this one? Everything really did fall right into place for a change, which in itself sounded warning bells. Nothing ever just fell into place. The salt had worked… which was what made him believe it wasn't a tulpa in the first place. But, then again that one back in Richardson had reacted to the stuff too. It got pretty pissed off at them for trying it actually and that sounded a lot like Elizabeth's reaction to Cal's 'come and get me' shot.

It had reacted in all the ways ghosts normally did…except that usually there was some sort of fight during the burn. Some sort of _something. _Usually an angry and violent something, somewhere near the grave.…This time? Nothing. Just 'poof' and suddenly it was gone.

Then there was that spirit at the Met that had attacked Sam and Fran… Jesus. He knew that the whole psychic thing pretty much made his brother a walking magnet for that kind of stuff…but that was just ridiculous. When he'd gone back to check things out after dropping Sam and Franny off there had been nothing but a thick line of salt across the archway to the kitchen. No angry blonde spirit, no mess, no EMF or strange noises… nothing. Again…just plain _weird_. It was all connected somehow, he knew it. Didn't know how…but he just _did_ and it was driving him crazy because the answer was right there. Right at his fingertips. He just couldn't _see_ what it was.

All in all he managed about three hours of broken, restless sleep just after dawn. He and Cal woke together to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of quiet laughter filtering down the hall from the kitchen.

"You ready to go in there and see how things stand between those two?" She'd asked against his chest where her head lay.

"Well, they do have coffee…" though he didn't sound like he actually wanted to get up at all yet.

"Hm…they _did_ make the coffee. You think if we wait a long enough they might make breakfast too?" The corners of Dean's mouth curled up at that… food and coffee ready for them even before getting out of bed. Yeah, that was definitely worth waiting for.

"I can, uh, think of a few things we could do while we wait…" and then it was her turn to smile because she knew _exactly _what _he_ had in mind. Having a few ideas of her own she didn't hesitate to show him exactly how open she was to his suggestion.

Sure enough, about an hour later the scent of pancakes mingled with the coffee as they lay tangled in each other and Cal's red cotton sheets. She smiled at the rumble of laughter that rolled around Dean's chest underneath her. "So She-Ra, looks like your little plan worked…you don't supposed they deliver do you? 'Cause I think you just wore me out and I sure wouldn't mind a little breakfast in bed…"

"Call me crazy Winchester, but I think you may be pushing it."

The only answer she gets is another warm rumble through Dean's ribcage under her ear.

It's mornings like this that make all the ugly they face while hunting worthwhile.

* * *

It was more than a bit of a shock to walk into the kitchen and the sight that met them made Dean wonder briefly just when the hell Sam had changed his last name to 'Brady'. All that was missing was the gaggle of kids really. Fran was wearing an apron… and by the way, where had that come from anyway? Last he checked Cal didn't even own one of those things…at least he didn't _think_ she did…anyway Fran was apron clad and flipping pancakes over an electric griddle Dean had never seen before either.

Sam was sitting at the island in the same spot Dean himself had been sitting in the day before, reading the sports section of the paper. They hadn't heard Dean come in apparently. "Hey, you were right Fran. They did end up doing a piece on the game rerun we caught earlier." "Really?" she smiled, turning and wrapping her arms loosely over his shoulders. Resting her chin on his shoulder she read a bit of the article before kissing his cheek lightly. "Yeah, but the guy didn't actually watch the game. He got the final score wrong." Time literally slowed as Sam's wholehearted laughter filled the room. Dean was suddenly in shock because he hadn't heard that particular sound since he'd discovered his hand had been super-glued to a beer bottle _months_ earlier.

"Morning everybody." and a pair of lovely arms much smaller than his own wrapped around his waist as Cal came in behind him smelling of soap and shower. Deep breath Dean. God he wished he'd been able to sleep more because right now it was real hard for him to pretend that emotion just didn't exist. This was pretty much it for him really, Sam happy and Cal with her arms around him…all that was missing was their Dad and it would have been perfect.

"Hey guys, you two sleep well?"

Dean just nodded because 'no, not really' just didn't seem to fit into this little scene they'd somehow managed to build.

"Go ahead and sit down hun, I'll get your coffee." Cal's whisper in his ear made him smile in spite of himself. How she just knew this stuff he had no idea…but okay. It was a great suggestion and he went ahead and did.

There were a number of theories tossed around over the pancakes that morning. The one they seemed to lean towards the most was unfortunately the tulpa. That damned thought form stuff. Unpredictable and really, really hard to kill. Man, and just the _thought_ that he'd dug up some woman's grave and burnt her bones for apparently no good reason… great. Just freaking _great_.

"So then, how did this thought form thing… how does something like that happen, come alive?" The three hunters shared a few pretty dark looks before anyone answered. Sam was the one who did.

"Well, they have to be conjured… There's an ancient Tibetan spirit sigil that we ran into a few months back in Texas. From what we saw there apparently you have to look at the sigil and concentrate on something to bring it to life. In that case it was the ghost of a killer the local kids made up."

"Okay, but in this case it was two completely different women, spirits…in two completely different hotels… with completely different people."

"Uh, not quite." Fran sent a questioning look in Dean's direction. "Well there was one person that was there, in the building I mean, for two of the three appearances." Things were starting to make sense now, thank God, and Dean was starting to get a good look at the whole picture. _She _still wasn't getting it though. Not that he was surprised really. So he nodded at Sam who dug a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

Three sets of eyes watched intently as Fran carefully unfolded the familiar scrap of paper and recognition flitted across her features. "So, this…this wasn't a protective symbol was it?" Oh God, had _that_ been responsible for this whole mess?

"Yeah, no. Definitely not a protective symbol." So Cal wasn't exactly tactful. At least she was honest.

"Which really brings us to the tough question. Is one person's belief enough to bring one of those suckers to life?" Dean was asking Sam, but Sam was lost in his own world…working all the little details in his head.

Fran had heard the ghost story about Elizabeth from the cabbie that drove her from Cal's to the Belleclaire so that explained the redheaded 'ghost' there. Then there was the all too easy salt and burn last night. Mordechai's thought form had just dissipated into thin air too, just like Elizabeth's so called ghost had. But what about the blonde? She'd appeared _after _the ghost had been destroyed. Were they connected? Did the thought form just change to something else? Maybe whatever this thing was it was drawing from Fran…her imagination maybe…or…

"What were you dreaming about last night Franny? Just before you woke up and we were attacked." Sam asked her suddenly.

"Wha...? I uh, I don't know." She answered looking more than embarrassed. "Why do you ask Sam?"

"Last night at around midnight I woke up because you were shifting around a lot…having a nightmare. Just before you woke up and that thing appeared you whispered a name…"

"I did? My God, you heard that?" Cheeks were flaming red now because she knew exactly what she'd been dreaming. Wasn't necessarily something she wanted to talk about either. Especially not now that she knew what she did about the poor girl Jess. Those dreams had been a product of her own jealousy that Sam belonged with someone else and now… well now she knew just how silly that really was.

"Yeah…yeah I did." He said softly.

Dean watched as something passed between those two…words left unspoken yet understood all the same. Sam seemed to be saying 'It's okay. I know. I understand. We need to know this to make it better.' Fran was worried 'are you sure? I'm not proud of it. I'd rather not'. No one could stand the assault of Sam's silent 'please' look for long though, not without just giving in to it. Fran was no better. A long deep sigh and an "Oh, _alright. _Fine." And the girl was spilling it all. How her dream had been about this faceless Jess girl that Sam had mentioned.

That was all Dean needed to hear. It was the missing piece he'd been looking for to tie it all in together.

"My God Sam… it's her dreams. The damned thing is feeding off her dreams. The nightmares she had that night after reading Dad's journal came true… and then the blonde face she'd put to…that thing that attacked you guys last night…God. So the damned thing won't show again until…"

"Until I fall asleep and have another nightmare." The only part of Fran that belied her outward calm was the slight tremble of long graceful fingers wrapping firmly around the mug of coffee she'd just poured. She drank it as if it were the elixir of life. No way she was going to fall asleep now… because when she did there was no doubt the tulpa would rear its ugly head again.

And when it did…well there was just no telling what form it would take next time. How the hell were they supposed to fight _that_?

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	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

Cal didn't like it. She didn't like it, not one little bit.

'Course neither did Dean, but he really didn't see what other choice they had.

The furniture in the living room had been pushed up against the bookshelves and the walls in Cal's living room. Sam was laying down salt lines in the shape of a large Pentagram on the carpet around Franny who sat cross legged dead center of the room. He'd lit a half dozen large white candles around the room too as extra protection, though Dean wasn't so sure any of it would keep them safe at all.

It was midafternoon so there was sunlight streaming in through the window and it looked to Cal as if the beams of light were all coming to fall directly on Fran, framing her in a halo of light. Then she watched from the doorway she was leaning against as Sam tucked himself up against Fran from behind, long legs on either side of her and whispering something that made her smile. Cal didn't smile though. No, there was a frown turning the corners of her mouth down and creasing her forehead.

"How long has _that_ been in the works?" she asked Dean tilting her chin toward them as she watched. Apparently she'd missed that little hallmark moment over the sports pages before breakfast Dean thought to himself ruefully.

"A while. Didn't think I'd see him act on it though. Hasn't really let anyone in since Jess died." Sam was showing Fran how to sit for the ritual, placing hands on her shoulders and running them down her back to help her straighten out.

"I don't like it. Conjuring the tulpa like that? Dean, she's gonna end up getting hurt…"

"I don't like it much either Cal, but she's the only one who can do this. It's not like we can post a fake way to kill it on the internet like we tried to do with Mordecai to change it and we sure as hell can't burn the damn thing out of existence either. Only way to do this is to get Fran some power of the thing."

Cal watched as closed her eyes, open palms facing up and resting on her knees. How long until showtime? Seconds… minutes maybe?

"What if she's not strong enough…"

"Cal." Her name came out an order that had her snapping her head around to face him. "She was strong enough to create the damn thing with a sigil scribbled on hotel stationary and a couple of bad dreams." Well, she couldn't argue that now could she? Dean was right too. It wasn't like they could salt and burn a thought form or pump some silver into it to kill it off. All they could do was hope that Fran had enough power over it to create a way for them to kill it.

Sam had taken his hands off Fran now, resting them on his thighs instead as he chanted the Tibetan mantra his voice a low rumble filling the room.

Franny's eyes drifted closed, her face looking relaxed and peaceful as if she were in fact just meditating. Girl was a natural really and the effect Sam had on her just sitting there was amazing. She'd been a mess of nerves pretty much since breakfast and now a couple of light touches from Sam and she was ready to conjure a tulpa as if it were something she did everyday.

_I'm going to have to have a talk with that boy_ Cal thought to herself as she watched. _Something along the lines of 'you break her heart I break your legs' ought to get my point across._ Her thoughts must have showed because Dean had that curious eyebrow cocked at her. She of course just smiled. There were just some things a girl didn't necessarily need to share.

They were both distracted then, by a cold draft of air that brushed past them and into the living room. "Here we go." Dean's whisper in her ear as he leaned passed her to see what was happening in the living room.

Candle light flickered, not quite dying out as the cold swished around the room going full circle before taking shape just beyond the uppermost tip of the salt pentagram. Apparently Fran believed in the protective properties enough for them to work against the thing.

Dean, Cal and Sam were mesmerized as the blonde woman slowly became less and less transparent until she was as solid as any one of them. Fran opened her eyes, mouth falling open at the sight and the words "great, just what I always wanted…my very own imaginary friend brought to life" dripping sarcastically from her lips.

Beads of sweat on her brow and the back of her neck started to crawl down as Fran tried to dissolve her creation. All it did was make her angry. The apparition tried repeatedly to storm the circle, reaching for Fran and trying to hurt her. "I'm coming for you Francine. You can't hide behind salt lines and charms forever…sooner or later you'll have to sleep and when you do…" creepy high pitched laughter floated through the room making skin crawl uncomfortably.

Well that was pretty much it for Franny. Her buttons had been pushed and she'd had enough. If she could kick grown men three times her size out of her bar for brawling she could damn well handle a little nightmare couldn't she? They needed a way to destroy it? Yeah, she had a pretty good idea how to do that.

Sam had said that rock salt repels spirits, that it had protective properties and that it was essential when burning bones to destroy spirits. Well, she was willing to bet that the only reason the rock salt rounds didn't do the trick was just because they went right through them. This blonde chick…well she was pretty solid now…and she was just a waking dream really, right?

"Dreams are just unconscious thoughts. If you can change your mind you can change your dreams…" she was muttering to herself under her breath puzzling it out as the tulpa looked on. "…a nightmare is a dream… a tulpa is a nightmare come to life…" Sam's soft voice behind her still chanting softly, soothing her and helping her focus her thoughts. She was close… close to figuring it out, to the answer on how to obliterate this thing she'd made. "Tulpa's are living nightmares…nightmares are dreams…dreams are subconscious thoughts. If you can change your mind you can change your dreams… which means…" Which meant Franny had the upper hand on this one. She was holding the reigns.

Looking up and into the empty eyes of her creation she continued her train of thought loudly enough for everyone to hear. "…which means that you, darlin', are under my control because you're just a product of my over-active imagination. So if I were to suddenly decided that rock salt and holy water are lethal to you…" she reached down and grabbed up a handful of salt and tossed it towards the woman making her scream. "…then they _would_ be, and _you_ would be toast." Fran reached down for another handful of the salt, ready to end it right then and there… but when she looked up again to throw it the tulpa swirled, dissipating into thin air.

The deep breath Sam let out blew gently against the back of her neck and teased a few stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail. "You okay?" he asked wrapping his arms around her. "Yeah, I think so. Did I… I mean, do you think it worked? You think next time she pops up the salt and water will do it?"

"Yeah Franny, it will."

And then Dean was in the room blowing out the candles, Cal right in front of her checking her eyes, her pulse. Making sure she was in fact alive. "How're you feeling hun? You can see alright? Headache?" she was in mother hen mode, falling back on old ways. Treating her as she had her father once upon a time when he'd meet up with her after a hunt bloodied and beaten. Fran was neither, of course. "I'm fine Cal…just really tired."

"Well, that was just awesome. _You_ were awesome. Good thinking keeping it simple like that… but we can't have you passing out before we're ready for that thing to get back." Was that _Dean_ loading on the praise like that? Fran cast a sideways look at the man and wondered to herself just what the hell was going on.

Sam's warm steady hands were rubbing up and down her arms from elbow to shoulder distracting her enough to just drop it though. "Why don't you go grab a quick shower and wake yourself up a bit? I'll start a fresh pot of coffee for you." He was lifting her to her feet and guiding her toward the hallway. Yeah, you know what… a shower sounded pretty good right now… and coffee sounded even better.

Cal watched as Sam bent down and kissed Fran lightly before sending her off toward the bathroom, his quiet 'proud of you' floating over to her before he turned toward the kitchen. Yeah, a talk. Definitely time for a little talk with that boy.

* * *

Cal waited for the sound of the water running before she followed Sam back into the kitchen. She had a thing or two to say to Sam Winchester about her girl and it was not something she wanted overheard. At least not by Franny.

Arms crossed across her chest she stopped just short of the doorway to the sight of Sam smiling to himself, mouthing the words to the song Franny was mercilessly butchering in time with the radio in the bathroom. Good lord the kid had it _bad_.

"So Romeo, how's that coffee coming?" Poker face on she sauntered the rest of the way into the room.

"Hm?" He looked surprised and a little embarrassed at having been caught, but he was a Winchester and quick on the recovery. "Oh…it just finished brewing. You want a cup Cal?"

"Yeah, you better pour one for yourself too and come sit your ass down. We've got some talking to do." Uh oh. Cal wanting to 'talk' huh? Yeah, that couldn't be good.

So he filled two good sized mugs with fresh coffee, grabbed the carton of cream from the fridge, the sugar from the cupboard and sat down across from her.

"What's on your mind?" Was she worried about the tulpa?

Blue eyes met brown head on and if Sam hadn't known any better he would have believed that there was a challenge there. A fist fight brewing on the horizon of possibility. "Franny is, for starters." Ah, so _that's_ what this was about.

"Yeah, she's pretty amazing."

"Look Sam, you know me better than to beat around the bush like this. I'm not blind. I can see there's something there between you two."

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious." Just where was she going with this?

"So what exactly is it between you two, _exactly?_" Oh my god, was she giving him 'the look'?

"Come on sweetheart, you know Sammy better'n that by now." Dean walked in and started serving himself a cup of coffee too. Sam would have breathed a sigh of relief except that he had a feeling his brother was about to stir things up again. "He's one of those…what do you call them…?" He paused to stir his coffee and try to find the word he was looking for, then turned back to where Sam and Cal were sitting with a triumphant look on his face. "_Right_! A gentleman. Last of a rare breed unfortunately, much to my extreme disappointment he doesn't kiss and tell."

"Yeah well, if he's '_kissing' _with Fran he'd better start talking."

"I really don't see how that's any of your…" Sam started to defend himself but Cal finished the sentence for him effectively cutting him off.

"Any of my business Sam? Okay then. Why don't you answer me this: when this thought form/tulpa thing is done and over with and Fran goes back home…what happens then? Eh? You're a hunter. You gonna just give up the life? Learn a little French maybe so you can work the restaurant with her, settle down and have the 2.5 kids? Because that girl's got a whole lot of normal in her future, a normal I've fought real hard to for her to keep…in case you've forgotten our recent vampire escapade… and I would hate to see all that go down the crapper because of a journal and a Winchester with an itch to scratch." She was calm. Calmer than either brother had ever seen her before and her voice was as cold as ice.

Dean had turned to her with this look that was just begging the question: who are you and what have you done with my girl? He'd come in here to push her buttons and sit in on the show but apparently she hadn't needed pushing. For someone who'd always been an only child she was doing a good job with the big sister act. Time to diffuse the situation… "Sam is a lot of things Caitlin, most of them good. Sure he might be a little bit of a girl with the emotional stuff but he has _never _been the type to just scratch an itch. You of all people know that already."

"Do I?" She was staring Sam down.

Good Lord the woman was trying to make him insane. He recognized this act of hers. The 'big sister' routine alright. She was sizing him up and taking his number, just in case…and god help the guy if he hurt the one she was trying to protect. Yeah, Dean had been on the receiving end of that enough times to see it for what it was. Had been on the dishing out end of it once or twice too. It was fun, but not something he wanted to see unleashed on Sam.

"That girl is the closest thing to family I have left. She cared enough to track me down just to make sure I was okay after I disappeared. Only person other than my father who's ever done that is you. She deserves happy."

"I get you Cal and I'm with you on this. If anyone's going to ask those question it ought to be you…just, tone it down a little okay? He's not the eighties loving handsome if irritating asshole you picked out for yourself. Give the guy a little credit, huh?"

And now it was down to a staring match between the hotheads. One defending Fran, the other Sam.

Sam hadn't seen them head to head like this since before they'd wasted that vampire Earl. "Guys!" He shouted, frustrated as they started edging forward towards each other, Cal's fists clenching and looking for all the world as if she was actually going to start throwing punches and Dean tensing up like he was about to tackle her before she could. "Hey, it's not an issue okay? Fran and I, we haven't… Jesus. Just back the hell off each other already." Which he immediately recognized as the big mistake it was because suddenly instead of being focused on each other Cal and Dean were completely focused on _him_.

"What do you mean you haven't…? Dude, what the hell is taking you so long?" from a very surprised, if visibly annoyed Dean. Cal, of course leaned over and playfully cuffed him one on the shoulder before muttering an _Oh thank God _and turning back to Sam.

"Good. Let's keep it that way shall we?"

"Uh, I don't really think that's your choice to make Cal."

"Really? Well, let's explore the alternatives then. There are two that I can think of off hand. One would be you leaving the hunt, which by the way I don't see happening. The restaurant, the bar, the settling down with the 2.5 kids…yeah, it's just not very 'Winchester' is it? The other would be Fran hunting and _that _my friend is _not _something I'm about to just sit back and let happen. I cannot possibly express how _not cool_ I am with that particular scenario."

"Look, I'm not really comfortable with Fran putting herself in danger myself. Hell, it's dangerous for her just to be _near_ me…especially after the demon… Well, anyway I don't want her getting hurt and I told her as much." Sam's voice was getting louder, frustration at the whole situation coming off him in waves.

Dean with the instant denial. "That's bullshit Sam, and you know it."

And Cal's tough as nails pushing "To which she said…?"

And a third voice that none of them expected to hear, at least not so soon.

"To which she said _I don't give a flying rats ass. _Of course, I might not have used those exact words but that was the general gist of it. Honestly Cal, I'm surprised at you. You've seen what I deal with in that bar and you know damned well I'm a grown woman. I'll make my own choices on this one thanks. I don't need you _or_ Sam making the decisions for me."

Fran was standing in the doorway dressed in Cal's bathrobe and looking like she wished she had her shotgun. They'd all seen that look before. It was the one she gave people just before she forcefully showed them the door of the bar…usually at gunpoint.

"Yeah well, in case you haven't noticed Fran the stuff _we_ deal with is just a little more dangerous than a few local boys getting drunk and beating the crap out of each other."

"Girl, I do _not believe _you just said that to me… especially with what just went down in your living room."

Dean found himself doing his best to become one with the wall, figuring his best shot at survival here was to stay out of the thick of the fight. Only possible way to do that right now was to become invisible. He was gesturing to Sam to try and do the same but then Fran spoke again and he lost his chance.

"I'll show you exactly what you can do with that 'Cal knows best' attitude." She told her friend angrily. Turning she marched over to Sam, wrapped an arm around his waist and a hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him down to her.

If he hadn't already put his mug down he would definitely have dropped it. Fran's hand was still so warm from the hot shower that he could feel the heat of it right through his shirt where it rested on the small of his back. Could feel her whole body actually and distracting was just _not_ a strong enough word for what _that _felt like. He barely had time to register the fingers that were tangling themselves in the hair at the base of his scalp when their lips met. Then there was only the soft warm heat of their mouths, the clean fresh scent of soap and hot naked need. She kissed him so thoroughly that by the time she pulled away with a satisfied cat-like smile he had no breath left to catch.

Dean was chuckling from the corner he'd retreated to, watching his brother pant helplessly looking completely and utterly shell shocked. "You okay over there Sammy?" Sam of course didn't answer. Doubted he could have even if he'd wanted to.

Fran had crossed her arms over her chest again and was giving Cal a pointed look.

"Okay then. You've made your point." Throwing her hands up Cal admitted defeat, though she was obviously not happy about it.

"Fran?"

"Yeah Cal?"

"Do me a favor will ya?"

"What?"

"Don't _ever_ do that in front of me again."

Fran just stuck her tongue out at her, getting herself an eye roll for her trouble.

"And for the love of… you know what...? Come with me. I'm hooking you up with some of _my_ clothes until we can head back to the Met for yours."

Cal didn't wait for an answer, just turned and led the way to her room muttering under her breath the whole way. Something about it being bad enough she was playing tonsil hockey in the middle of her kitchen the least she could do was do it fully clothed. _Downright freaking indecent if you ask me._

Fran for her part just gave Sam a smoldering sexy look. She was really starting to enjoy throwing that guy off balance. With a playful wink and a smile she trotted along after Cal.

"Wow Sammy… dude… I think I might actually be a little jealous. That girl? Mm. You, uh, wanna trade?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that man because that was just all kinds of _wrong_."

"Yeah. I know." He'd sighed " Cal would totally kick my ass for it."

When Cal came back a few minutes later Dean was gone, already moving the furniture back in the living room. She sat back down to finish her coffee opposite Sam again and started talking as if she'd never left. "So she's made up her mind and Fran's not the type to change it once she has. If this is what she wants I can be okay with it. There's still one last thing I need to say because I wouldn't be any kind of a good friend if I didn't."

"And that would be?"

"Simple. You break her heart I break your legs…all _three_ of 'em…and whatever other bones that might get in the way."

"Tell you what sweetheart…" Dean came up behind her "…if it makes you feel better if he breaks her heart _I'll _do it for you."

"Well if it isn't the 'eighties-loving irritating asshole' I picked out for myself."

"You forgot handsome Cal… eighties loving _handsome _if irritating… you know what, I think we should add 'charming' to that too. I mean come on, I'm definitely charming…am I right?" Now that she'd said what she'd needed to say Cal was in a much better mood.

"Who says I forgot? Eighties loving is a given, and irritating? Oh yeah, goes without saying. Handsome though? And charming? Jury's still out on those two." Innocent little glance over her shoulder to take in the open-mouthed shocked effect she'd managed while Sam tried to stifle the urge to laugh. Dean just pointed at her. "That's it babe. _You_ are officially cut off. There are _plenty_ of ladies out there who know how to appreciate _this_ full package… and obviously _you_ don't."

He jumped a little when she got out of her chair and took off running when she started coming towards him. Sam could barely make out Cal's _I'll show you appreciation Mr. Full Package _over the sound of his own laughter.

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	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

"Boy you sure know how to pick 'em don't you hun?"

Fran was standing in Cal's walk-in closet and talking to her reflection in the floor length mirror. There had been a number of shady men in her past. Hell, who was she kidding? They'd _all_ been shady, and that was putting it mildly to say the least. This one was a first though. Sam Winchester: Hunter of All Things Supernatural who apparently deflected as easily as breathing to protect family and what they did. Alright, so deflecting was probably not a strong enough word. It was just really hard to be mad at the guy for lying to people about what they did when she could very well understand the reasoning behind it. If _she _were a hunter, well she'd want to do her damnedest to preserve whatever innocence managed to survive all the nasty crap that lay waiting out there.

Then again, it wasn't just lying was it? There were aliases. There had to be. Cal had them. It'd be pretty hard for a pair of brothers to get around unnoticed without suspicion without aliases. God, she watched way too many spy movies. Seriously. And that? Well, that got her thinking about that sawed-off she'd seen in Sam's room and all the weaponry Cal had scattered all over the place… Fran knew she was right about Sam being a dangerous one. Just the though of him, holding that shotgun and blowing some evil spirit away…well…thoughts like those got her kissing shaggy haired big boys in friend's kitchens didn't they?

Of course it didn't help that the giant hairy sasquatch was the _hottest _thing she'd ever set eyes on. Add on the angst and the way it sometimes got eclipsed by that brilliant flash of smile. God, it's a wonder her heart hadn't stopped yet. This man, he was something different and it wasn't just the hunting. He was the good guy that most girls dreamed of meeting. Morals of freaking Superman. Heh, imagine that. She'd fallen for her very own superhero. Yeah, that's about right isn't Fran? Fall for the one's that don't or can't stick around…How long until he faded out into the night and back to 'the family business' with Cal and Dean…possibly never to be seen or heard from again?

Franny hadn't wanted to act on this… knew she was setting herself up for a world of hurt. Sam wouldn't want to settle down. God, the guy probably couldn't even if he wanted to. Who would if they knew what was out there and that they could stop it and save lives? But when he looked at her with those big brown eyes... yeah, there was just no saying no to the man.

Finding out about Jess and that freaky yellow-eyed fire demon, well to say that she was terrified was one hell of an understatement. She'd made her choice though. Sam might leave and break her heart eventually but she wasn't going to do that. Wasn't going to let him put all that blame on himself. Maybe… maybe if she gave up the bar and took up hunting…? Yeah right. No way that was going to happen. I mean, she'd literally just dreamed up a thought-form-tulpa-thingy from a nightmare. Franny hunting, in her own opinion, would be downright freaking dangerous…and for some reason she didn't think that Cal or the Winchesters would let her join their little group. Their reasoning? "Too dangerous for you Franny. Won't put your life on the line like that."

"Well, guess you're just going to have to make the most out of this while you can and hope to hell you get to see him again sometime…" she told her reflection as she tucked her hair up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

One thing was for darned sure, she was going to get all she could out of the little bit of time she did have with Sam. "Okay Big Boy, Watch out 'cause I'm going to knock your socks off." She told her reflection and Franny? Yeah, she was a girl who did not make idle threats.

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One thing Dean was quickly learning about girls was that they generally tended to deal with clothing differently then men. Take Cal for example. She had what she called 'hunting clothes' a series of lightweight, durable and _extremely _form fitting clothes that she brought with her for the sole purpose of hunting and a whole other set of clothes for when she wasn't on a hunt. There were 'dress clothes', 'bar clothes' and even some clothes she kept up at her parents place just to work the farm. Dean? He had _one _'set' of clothes. You know… some jeans, some shirts, some shoes and that monkey suit that Sam had forced him to buy. That was the extent of it.

As soon as they'd started in on this new job she'd taken out the work clothes. Not that he was complaining really… god, those curve-hugging jeans alone were enough to make his knees weak. Of course those damned clothes might turn out to be a little dangerous if he got too distracted… still he could handle it. He was a professional right? A seasoned hunter.

When Franny came out of Cal's room he knew they were in trouble just by the way Sam's jaw dropped to the floor. He watched as his brothers eyes traveled across every seam and up every curve there was to see. Jaw practically hit carpet and the drool was puddling at his feet. He should have known Cal would have given her some 'hunting clothes'. Yeah, Sam had it _bad_ and Dean? Dean didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing right now.

Leaning in towards Cal he whispered the question: "So, remind me again why your…what do you call them? Hunting clothes? Uh, remind me again why they have to be so damned, um, tight?" Couldn't blame Sam for looking really because Franny sure did have all the right curves in all the right places…

Cal jabbed him hard in the side when she caught the once-over he was giving Fran. "Because they move with me. Better mobility. Incidentally? Next time I catch you checking out Franny's 'mobility'…"

"I wasn't checking out her mobility, I was checking out her _assets_, which reminds me the _Metallicar_, as you like to call her, needs a bulb for one of her headlights…" and his eyes were glued to another set of headlights as he said it.

Somehow, _somehow_ he managed to stay upright even as Cal made her move to drop him to the ground. It was a close one. He was getting used to her sudden mood swings though so she wasn't catching him off-guard as often as she used to…which was good really. He wasn't too fond of the bruised look. It didn't have that same 'sexy injured hero' effect when the injury came from a girl.

So when Cal's foot suddenly swiped out and hooked behind his own it was just a matter of grabbing onto something and putting his feet firmly back on ground. Wasn't really his fault that Cal was the one who fell instead…though Dean figured he ought to get a few of those brownie points she was always joking about because…well, he _did _catch her before she hit ground, didn't he?

"Don't worry sweetheart…the only assets I'm interested in getting my hands on are yours." It was a low purr in her ear as she struggled to get out of her menace of a man's grip. "Oh really? Well isn't that comforting…I notice you left out the headlights." Cocking a brow at him she issued the challenge. _Talk your way out of it, I dare ya…'cause I know it won't work_. "Honey, I can't believe you'd ask me that!" Shock and innocence oozing off of him. "Do me a favor okay? Don't bring up headlights around my baby… wouldn't want her to get jealous. She may never let me drive her again…"

Rolling her eyes Cal just gave up. "Should've known…" she muttered darkly "You and that damned car…" Dean just flashed a smile that until recently had been reserved for hot secretaries, waitresses and nurses among others. It might have been her imagination but it always seemed to shine that much more brightly for her.

"So, uh, am I understanding this? You chew me out for kissing Big Boy over here and then you're necking with _your_ Winchester like you're a couple of teenagers out parking on a Saturday night?" It was a fun jab at Cal, typical Fran really. What was it that Dean had said a few weeks ago…something like 'my car, my rules'. Meh, she could make that work for her…

"What can I say Franny? My house, my rules." Yeah, hearing that particular line twisted over and over again? Never got old…at least not as far as Sam was concerned…not that he was concerned by much at the moment between the sight of _Fran_ in _those clothes_ and the look on Dean's face he didn't know whether he ought to be wiping his chin or laughing his ass off.

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They were sitting in the backseat of the Impala leg against leg, hip against hip and shoulder against shoulder as Dean drove like a madman toward the Met. "Sooner we get your stuff back here the cheaper it'll be for you." Cal had said and Fran couldn't argue the logic. She would really rather not have to pay another seven hundred dollars for a suite of rooms she wasn't going to use ever again. That and she wanted her clothes back. Three hours in Cal's clothes, which incidentally had to have been made for a freaking anorexic supermodel from the size of them, and she'd had enough.

Sam was thinking that for such a big car you'd have thought the backseat would be bigger. With Fran tucked in so close and after that kiss earlier it was really, really hard to ignore that familiar burn in the pit of his stomach. The one that made him want to lean over and show her that he could give as good as he got.

Unfortunately for Franny he was lulled to sleep by the rumble of the Impala three blocks out. Okay, so it was more like the dull roar of the beast's engine calling out a war cry to anything supernatural… but the poor guy was exhausted and really there was no reason why he shouldn't get the sleep in while he had the chance.

When Dean finally parked in the back lot Fran barely noticed. She was completely lost in her own head, trying to wrap her thoughts around all this hunting stuff and the thought form she was…_they_ were facing. Sam's soft snuffle-snore against her shoulder where his head had lolled was comforting and distracting in its own right too. So when the big hand knocked lightly at her window and Dean peeked in before heading in to the hotel with Cal it took Fran completely by surprise.

Of course, the guy would be just like Cal and flash a grin that said he was ridiculously pleased with himself at her reaction. Still, as upset as she was with him Fran rolled her window down anyway when he gestured her to.

"You good here while we head in?"

"Yeah, we're good. I'd already unpacked my stuff so it's scattered around the suite in drawers, closets and the bathroom…"

"So, in other words: leave no stone unturned? Yeah, I think we've got it Fran. You sure you're okay out here? I know Sleeping Beauty won't be any kind of hassle but…"

"I've got Big Boy over here covered Dean."

"Yeah, well it's not him I'm worried about. Don't want you falling asleep out here with nothing but parked cars and a sleeping sasquatch for company."

"You're kidding right? I couldn't have any more caffeine in me if I had it pumped straight into my blood stream by way of IV drip. I'll be lucky if I manage to fall asleep before the end of the year."

"Okay then. Cal left her phone in the front seat. You call if there's anything."

Yeah, he would just order her around and take off after Cal without so much as waiting for a… and then he stopped midway to the door. Froze right in his tracks for just a split second, turned and jogged back to the car. Reaching behind him under his coat he pulled out an impressive piece of shiny black weaponry.

"Dude, what is it with you and shiny black metal stuff?"

Dean chose to ignore the question.

"Rock salt rounds Franny. You see that little tulpa friend of yours, use it. I've just got this feeling…well anyway. I'd rather not leave you here without it."

Then he really was gone.

And Franny was alone

With a sleeping giant, a gun filled with salt, and her thoughts.

Well, she'd definitely been left in worse situations before.

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**_Thanks for reading: ) Please review_**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

How did someone so huge manage to look so small and _innocent_? It just boggled the mind.

Cal and Dean had been gone all of twenty minutes. Fran had spent that time alternately watching hotel staff sneaking cigarettes behind the big dumpsters at the back of the lot and studying Sam as he slept.

Okay, so maybe she ought to substitute the word 'study' with 'oggle'. She was a red-blooded girl and the guy was just smokin' hot okay? God, his brother Dean would have a field day over the blush she was sporting in bright, bold scarlet red across her cheeks…and Cal would have a hissy fit that she was thinking Sam thoughts that made her blush in Dean's car. She may not have decked Sam in her kitchen earlier but that didn't mean that Cal was okay with Franny, Sam and public displays of affection…or you know, _any _display of affection…because apparently Cal was the only one allowed to have a little fun with a Winchester. Well, the girl had another thing coming to her didn't she?

So, yeah, all this thinking about Sam worked wonders to alleviate the boredom…for all of twenty minutes. At which point there was no sign of Cal or Dean and quite frankly as attractive as Sam was Franny needed a little more entertainment than his snoring or she might fall asleep herself. Well, Cal wasn't the only resourceful girl in their little group now was she? A certain story about Cal taking the Impala for a cross-state joyride came to mind…okay, so maybe not such a good idea considering her life was already on the line. Death by obnoxious Winchester wasn't exactly an appealing prospect at the moment.

Still, there was a box of tapes on the floor at Sam's feet and a tape deck that was just begging to be used. The fact that she'd need keys to start the car wasn't really an issue. Fran had a few tricks up her own sleeve. So, carefully shifting Sam's head off her shoulder she maneuvered herself some moving space. First tape she set her hands on: Metallica…_sweet_. Well if nothing else Dean had taste, at least as far as Fran was concerned.

Music selection made, now came the fun part: starting the car. It took some twisting, turning and contorting but eventually Fran managed to work her way to the front seat…alright, so maybe not _all _the way. Bending over the seat, head and hands down by the bottom of the steering wheel she was in a great position to hotwire the Metallicar. There was a smile on her face at the sound of the satisfying 'pop' panel made as she pried it off.

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Maybe it was the pop of the dash panel, maybe it was the sputtering sound the engine made as Fran messed around with the wiring to get it to start…whatever it was that woke Sam up he was pretty thankful for it. First thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Franny's shapely behind, that being the only visible part of her at the time. Not that he was complaining about the view but…what the hell was she doing?

Rubbing a hand over his face to scrub the lingering sleepiness away, Sam sat up a little straighter to get a better look at what she was doing. The dash was open, colorful wires sticking out and nimble little fingers twisting a few of them together. Suddenly the car roared to life and settled into the loud purr that was the Impala in idle. Great. Dean was going to blow a gasket over this one.

"Franny?"

and she jumped, startled, hitting her head on the steering wheel.

"OW! Crapcrap_crap_! Jeez, don't _do _that!"

to which the big hairy sasquatch did nothing but laugh. Well at least until he pulled her back against him and started running big, long, graceful fingers through her hair to check for himself that she was okay.

"You know Dean's going to kill you for hurting his baby, don't you?" he asked pulling the pins out of her hair where the bun had been and spreading the hair out over her shoulders.

"Well, serves the guy right for leaving us out here in the cold without keys. Besides, twenty minutes with nothing but myself for company and about a zillion cups of coffee running through my system? I was getting a little bored."

"True… um, by the way…where _did_ a girl like you learn to hotwire a car anyway?" He asked, fingers still playing through light brown locks even now that he was sure there were no lumps or bruises on that hard head of hers.

"Long story Sam. Well, okay. Long isn't the word really…more like twisted."

"Well, we've got time…" How could she resist those dark eyes looking at her like that? Like he had nothing better than to listen to her heartbreak stories. A look that said: this one would definitely be worth hearing.

Alright, fine. He'd asked.

"There, uh, was this guy back home a few years ago. We get a lot of folks that stop in, layover while passing through from Ontario to the Quebec side or crossing over to the States. Something about the 'picturesque country side'…Anyway, he taught me how to hotwire my car after my purse went missing while we were out on the town. Found out later that he'd been the one to lift my purse and my car keys…after waking up the next morning to find both the guy and my car gone." She smiled at Sam's shocked look. "I caught up with him three towns over. He didn't figure I'd try to find him myself. You should have seen his face when he walked out of the motel room to find me sitting on the hood of my car with my shotgun leveled at him. He's doing twenty in Kingston Pen right now for Grand Theft Auto."

"Wow." Sam was impressed. Shocked and impressed. "Honestly, I feel kind of sorry for the guy. I've been on the business end of your temper _and _your shotgun and it's _not _pretty."

"You know… I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or…"

"Compliment…" She forgot how to breathe when his hand found the sensitive spot at the nape of her neck "…definitely a compliment." Her heart stopped when he leaned in towards her…and then started again beating a thousand times faster than it should when their lips met. They'd kissed before, but it had been nothing like this. This was heat, electricity, passion and…yeah. Home. Her head was spinning, his mind was reeling. There was no focus past each other and the mind blowing kiss they were sharing.

Franny was leaning in, wrapping her arms around him and doing her best not to just melt into a puddle when she caught sight of it through the back window of the car. All it took was the glint of afternoon sun on platinum blonde hair and she was jumping back and away. "Oh my God Sam, _it's her_." The sheer terror in her voice was so out of place with her pleasantly flushed cheeks that it took a second for what she was saying to register. Her? Her who? The only her _he _was concerned with was sitting right in front of him.

"She's out by the dumpster back there standing next to a couple of the girls who work at the hotel…" and as the words came rushing blonde flickered and was gone…but not gone. Only closer. Three cars over from the Impala now and Sam could definitely see her.

"Get in the front Franny." Sam was reaching for the door handle, ready to run around the car to the drivers side. Fran was way ahead of him, scrambling over the seat and reaching for Cal's cell phone. The tulpa flickered again as Sam ran, reappearing right in front of him as he rounded the front of the car. She'd changed… eyes wild and red instead of just an angry blue, mouth twisted into an evil smile. She was sharper and meaner. Nothing soft about this apparition. Not anymore. Damn, he'd been afraid of this. He'd read that Tulpa's tend to change themselves as they start to gain independence from their creators. This wasn't good. Neither was the fact that long, bony fingers were reaching for him murder showing clearly in blood red eyes.

"Sam! Get _down_!" Franny's voice muffled and coming from inside the car. Glint of something familiar and shiny glimpsed out of the corner of his eye through the windshield to his left and he was on the ground even as the sound of shattering windshield echoed through the parking lot. The tulpa screeched and disappeared even as Dean's voice registered somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Holy _shit!_ MY CAR!"

Cal and Dean were running towards them, Fran's bags dropped by the back doors of the hotel. Dean stopped just long enough to give Sam the once over before going straight for the Impala and moaning over the blown out windshield…and why the _hell_ was the engine running? He'd taken the keys in with him and he was pretty sure that meant the car wasn't… and then he noticed the job Fran had done on the dash and _goddamn it_ wasn't that just the icing on the freaking cake right there? Sam couldn't help but smile as everyone within hearing distance was treated to a Dean Winchester rant in the color ugly to the tune of Metallica's Enter Sandman.

Cal was checking Fran over too, every last inch of her and asking a million and one questions making sure she was in one piece emotionally as well as physically. The parking lot was chaos around them with hotel staff swarming around them and the car trying to make sense of what had happened.

Sam? Well he only had eyes for Fran. Their eyes locked through the broken windshield and he couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. Cheeks still prettily flushed, gun still smoking in her hands and a big, wide grin spread right across her face. On top of it all there was a sparkle in those eyes of hers that told him just how much she was enjoying this hunting thing, despite how scared she'd been.

Apparently they'd underestimated her, he thought to himself. Franny had a hidden talent. First with the tulpa creating, then with the conjuring and now with the rock salt rounds shot at apparitions through car windshields? Cal could say whatever she wanted but Fran was a natural hunter, if there even could be such a thing. And that? Well that changed things. A lot. It gave Sam hope and a glimpse at something he'd given up on not so long ago.

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**_More to come soon. Thanks for reading and as always: Please review : )_**


	18. Chapter 18

_Hi guys! Finished this one a while back and I've already started writing the sequel...which I would like to post on this site. So hope y'all don't mind but I'm gonna post all the rest of this today. _

_I'm looking forward to your reviews, can't wait to find out what y'all think of the way I ended it. Thanks again for reading! Enjoy : ) _

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_**Chapter Eighteen**_

They hadn't even bothered cleaning up the broken glass from the windshield. No point when the car was already idling and that damned Tulpa was floating around. There were just too many people at the hotel, and they were all at risk as long as they stayed. The ride home? Yeah, it was damned cold. Cold winter air whipping in at them through the gaping hole that had only minutes earlier been a windshield. Not that Dean wasn't happy she'd saved Sam's life…God only knew that in her shoes he'd have done the same…but couldn't she have leaned out the window or something to shoot at the damned thing?

"Aw, come on Dean. Look at the bright side…" Cal had said. A bright side, to his baby being damaged? Yeah this ought to be good. "…if we roll down the windows she's practically a convertible. Didn't you just say the other day that convertibles are awesome?"

He was white knuckling the steering wheel and trying really, really hard to remember why he'd gone to so much trouble to find her again. Sam's mouth full of bright white teeth sparkling at him through the rearview. "As a matter of fact I distinctly remember saying that convertible _Mustangs _were awesome. Should we go blow out the windshield on _your _car now?" Dark glare sent in the general direction of the passenger side and Cal was _laughing_, damn her! "I really don't think that's a good idea hun. I mean, it's not like we'll be able to ride in the Metallicar for the next couple of days…"

"Yeah, thanks babe. Way to go to rub salt in the wound." And that? Well that was one hell of an ugly scowl.

"Hey, at least Sam's okay." Came Fran's soft voice, tentatively from the back seat. Dean had this look to him that said he wasn't so sure it was an even trade off.

"She did the right thing Dean. That thing could've killed me." Sam's steady voice telling him to just let the damn thing go. Well, he ought to know his older brother is far more stubborn than that.

"Yeah, yeah. Doesn't mean my baby deserved to get shot at…and by the way? Ripping the dash open just to listen to the damned radio? Not what I call necessary defensive action against the supernatural, you know?"

"Dean! Seriously man." All Dean could think was that he couldn't believe Sam was defending the chick considering…yeah. Sure. He was glad Sam was okay… still though.

"I'm just saying Sam…"

"Hey! Dean? Enough already. You left us outside in the middle of winter with the engine off. Now, if you'd only been gone a few minutes it would have been one thing but half an hour? I was cold, Sam was asleep and I was bored." Well, good to see Fran's backbone was still firmly in place…

"She's got a point Dean."

"Cal, don't encourage the girl. She hurt my baby."

"Dude, last time you got bored waiting for _me _you broke into my car."

"That was different."

Cal just gave him that 'sure it was' look.

"Fine dude, have your hissy fit. Whatever."

Normally? Well, normally Dean would have had plenty to say to an obvious war cry like that. What made this time different was that he'd caught another glimpse of his brother in the backseat of the car with Fran cuddled close against him partly to share body heat and partly just because. Sam had lost track of the conversation and was instead smiling softly and tracing absent lines with his finger tips up and down the palm of Fran's hand as they both watched the city fly by outside.

Something clicked to life inside of Dean as he realized Sam was happy. Honest to God, whistle under you breath without realizing it, sparkle in your eye _happy. _Okay then. If it took a busted up dash and a blown out windshield then maybe he could be cool with it. Besides, New York was huge. There was bound to be some sort of parts yard somewhere in the city…he could probably have her good as new by lunch tomorrow.

Cal looked over at him, worried when the usual snappy comeback didn't make its usual appearance. Was shocked to see a grin spread across pink cheeks. Dude was driving with no windshield and he was grinning? Had she just blinked her way into the Twilight Zone or something? Hazel eyes kept flitting toward the rear view mirror, smile getting brighter every time they did. Curious, Cal glanced back just in time to see Sam absently kiss the top of Fran's head, a smile softly touching his eyes.

Oh.

Crap.

As nice as it was to see the kid happy….as nice as it was to see Franny happy… well, Cal couldn't help but get the feeling that things were going to get really messy for those two.

* * *

Dean knew that look. The one Franny had been getting ever since they'd pulled into the underground parking a half hour earlier. It was the one Sammy had had on his face after Jess had died when the nightmares were at their worst. When Sam had been able to see Jess everywhere and tried like hell to hide it. He knew that look, he just wasn't expecting Franny to be the one wearing it. That was not a good sign. He was pretty sure it meant the Tulpa was making itself known. Well that was fine by him. Just meant she'd be easier to summon when they put their plan in motion later. Another hour, maybe two and that thing would be nothing but an unpleasant memory.

Cal and Fran were setting up the spare room. Sam's stuff was being moved to another room along with any furniture that wasn't the bed. Cal wasn't taking any chances. Not after that thing went poltergeist on her with the furniture at the Belleclaire…Dean and Sam were cleaning and prepping the rock salt guns and making enough holy water to fill the Hoover Dam. Sam had come up with a plan that just might work. "We're going to make her believe in a ritual that'll make the thing disappear permanently. One we've got to do while she's sleeping. Then we're going to pump the damned thing with holy water and rock salt and kill it off." Well, hell. It was as good a plan as any.

There was a unanimous, unspoken decision among the hunters not to let Fran out of their sights until it was all over. She'd stopped drinking the coffee altogether after Sam explained to her the ritual he needed her to believe in and her eyes had been drooping ever since. The windows in the spare room had been covered to make the room as dark as possible to help her along and there were salt circles, white candles and bits of silver all over the room for protective purposes. Fran was curled up in Sam's bed and her three hunters stood watch as she tried to sleep. Her hand curled protectively around the same gun Dean had handed her back in the hotel parking lot under the pillow.

Sam stood by the foot of the bed looking tense and determined as he grimly scanned the room for even just the hint of a shadow that didn't belong. Cal stood by the window next to the buckets of holy water a smile on her face. Something about anticipation of battle always got her going, the girl was a born scrapper. Dean was leaning back on the wall by the door, shotgun at the ready. He might have been smiling too but he couldn't fool Sam. He was scared. These thought forms were too damned unpredictable for his liking. Too much was being left to chance.

The sheets were soft and warm and they smelled of Sam, which was a comfort to poor Fran who was scared out of her mind. _Think happy thoughts girl...get your mind off of it all or you'll never get to sleep._ Yeah right, like happy thoughts were even an option right now.

She could hear the shuffling of three sets of feet and her own breathing, erratic and shallow due to fear. "You okay?" Sam's voice floating to her in the darkness of the room. Well, she'd have to be wouldn't she? "Yeah Sam, I'm okay." She answered closing her eyes and fighting hard to steady her own breathing. Sleep was there, calling to her, ready to pull her deep into dreams. She just had to relax enough to give in to it.

Deep breath in, scent of clean sheets and Sam…deep breath out and limbs start to relax into that sleep heavy feeling…Another deep breath in, clean sheets and Sam…breath out and she was drifting in that place just past consciousness, all disturbing thoughts of tulpas gone, replaced with much more pleasant ones of a giant hunter…breath in…mmm…that smell again…and by the time the breath out came Franny was out like a light.

As soon as Sam heard that subtle change in breathing that said Franny was asleep he lit a match. Those candles wouldn't do anything at all if they weren't lit and they were going to need all the protection they could get. Cal was pulling the covering off the window so they could see the balcony in case the thought form decided to make its appearance there first. It wouldn't get them much of an edge, but they'd take whatever they could get. Dean was still just standing there, nervously scanning the room. Waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

They were expecting a shift in the air of the room, or something like what they'd experienced earlier in the living room. It was different this time though. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere of the room that they all thought might be it, but there was no apparition. No freaky red-eyed, shrieking blonde…just the knowledge that there was now _something_ there in the room with them that they couldn't see.

A minute went by, then another, and another. Breath was held, bodies tense, eyes moving back and forth over every last inch of the room… and then they heard it. The soft, slow padding of feet out in the hallway. Dean, acting on instinct, leaned out the door and pointed his shotgun in the direction the sound was coming from and saw… a fat load of nothing. The hallway was empty. What the hell was that thing up to? Standing out in the empty hallway looking from Sam to Cal and back again he lifted his shoulders just the once. "There's nothin' out here…" but he never got the chance to finish because the door suddenly slammed shut taking them all by surprise.

He heard Cal and Sam shout his name and threw himself at the door, terrified of what might be happening to those he loved behind it. "You two okay in there?" he shouted hoarsely, and _goddamn_ he was angry. Angry that this _thing _had managed to lure him out of the room like that. He should have known better.

"We're okay Dean. Can't see it anywhere yet." Came Sam's voice, also hoarse though with surprise rather than anger.

"Don't worry hun, I've got Sam's back." Yeah, she _would_ say something like that wouldn't she? Sam could hold his own, Dean knew from experience.

"It's not Sam's back I'm worried about Cal, it's your accident prone, unlucky ass I want covered in there."

There was a loud, decidedly feminine snort and Dean didn't need to see her face to know he'd hit a nerve. "One lousy incident with an angry ghost and a knife and now I'm accident prone?" Oh, she _so_ didn't. He could hear her complain even over the banging of his body against the very solid door. "Don't forget the vampires Cal, there were what…four of those? And three separate incidents as I recall."

"I _told_ you…" her angry voice now on the other side of the door and suddenly it was swinging open "…I _had _the cowboy at the bar." With a look on her face that said yeah, she _so_ did. There were about two seconds for the both of them to register the thought that this was an argument that would never quite be over, ever. Then something invisible shoved Cal right into Dean from behind and the door slammed shut again.

Now Sam was alone, the door refused to budge from inside or out. "You guys okay?" Sam had to shout through the door and over the howling sound that had just started.

"Don't worry about us Sam, we're good…what the hell's going on in there?"

"It just got…windy. Still can't see anything though."

"We're gonna try to bust down the door."

"Yeah. Dean? Try to hurry…"

It was the first hint of uncertainty he'd heard from Sam since Fran showed up and Dean didn't like it. What moments ago had just been pounding of shoulder to door had turned into running leaps at it. He was throwing all his weight into it as Cal watched thoughtfully. "Could use your help here sweetheart, anytime you're ready…"

But Cal just took off, running to her room at the end of the hallway. "Sit tight for a sec Dean, I've got an idea…" was tossed carelessly over a shoulder as she ran.

"_Sit tight_?" she was joking right? "You're _kidding _right?" Freaking sit tight? With Sam trapped in a room with no back up, a tulpa and his sleeping girlfriend. Yeah, sure. He was all over that sitting tight stuff. He ran at the door again and slammed his body into it so hard the whole thing shook on its hinges. "What the hell are these things made of Cal?" he shouted, taking another running leap.

Cal came strutting out of her office with a pair of very large, very sharp looking axes and suddenly Dean was _very_ thankful for her obsession with sharp objects. "Solid oak. Which is why I told you to sit tight. Dude, you're lucky you didn't throw your shoulder out slamming into like that." He didn't tell her that he was pretty sure he already did, his left arm had gone numb after that last body slam. Didn't matter now though. As far as he could tell he could still use it just fine and there'd be time enough to fix it later. Right now all that mattered was getting back into that room.

"Dean! I see her…"

He didn't need any more incentive. Just took one of the axes from Cal and started hacking away at the door.

"What's it doing?" Cal called out.

"It's just flickering its way around the room. Trying to find a way into the salt circle around the bed."

Cal and Dean swung in tandem again and again the sound of splintering wood in their ears. "Dude, tell my you're _inside _the damn circle."

"What the hell do you think I…? Man, of _course_ I'm inside the circle."

And _finally _there was a hole in the door. Not nearly big enough to fit a person but at least they could see what the hell was going on between swings. Of course that also meant that they had to watch this tulpa, who now looked more like a Banshee than an actual woman, trying to claw through the invisible barrier separating it from Sam and Franny.

"Jesus Sam, what the hell are you waiting for. Shoot at it already!"

Sooner this whole mess was done and over with the better.

What was that saying about the best laid plans going to hell? Well, it was something like that anyway and it was exactly what they watched happen. Sam fired and fired and fired some more watching as each round hit it's mark in the tulpa over and over again until there was nothing left to unload. She just kept on coming.

"It's not working Dean, why the hell isn't it working?" Panic laced words as Sam scrambled backwards on to the bed. The tulpa howled and howled its anger, kicking up the air all around it, swirling it into a frenzy so that it whipped around and snuffed out the candles. The windows flew open with a clatter and Sam looked over and Franny, positive that by now she'd be awake…but she was stuck in the dream. Eyes closed tightly shut, mouth turned down the fear on her face clear even as she slept.

Dean gave up on the axe and started kicking away at the weakened wood around the hole they'd made. Wasn't long until it was four times as wide and though still not big enough for him to fit through Cal was able to climb into the room and make a mad dash towards the pails of water.

Apparently she wasn't considered a threat because the Tulpa just let her go. At least until she had one of the pails in hand and was tossing the water over the damned thing. Chilling red eyes turned on Cal who went flying across the room and was slammed hard into the wall at the back of the open closet. The pails that were still full of water followed, dumping themselves on her before the closet doors slammed shut.

"Cal!" Dean barely recognized his own voice as he cried out. Held his breath, waiting for her to say something…_anything_ to let him know she was okay.

"Argh!" her frustrated growl came first, along with the dull thunking sound of her pummeling the door as she tried to get out. "Damnit! I'm _stuck_ in here." She was pissed off, but otherwise sounded fine. Well, if an angry Cal could ever be considered okay.

He had to do something. The rock salt hadn't worked…neither had the holy water…she'd put out the candles like they were nothing, so obviously fire wouldn't work. Not that the possibility of burning the damn thing was even an option at this point really. Even if they burnt the whole building down, the tulpa would come back because it was attached to Fran. And yeah, it wasn't exactly like salt and burn would do the trick on this one was it?

The only thing they hadn't tried yet was the silver. It was a long shot…but maybe, just maybe…

Reaching down he pulled the small silver knife out of his boot and knelt down to level himself with the hole in the door. He waited until she moved to the end of the bed, away from Sam and Fran and threw the knife, praying to God she was solid enough for it to take hold. Relief flooding over him when it embedded itself to the hilt right in the middle of her chest. Short lived relief because seconds later he was ducking as she tossed it right back at him. It was sheer luck that the knife did nothing but graze his damaged shoulder. Well at least he wouldn't really feel it until they popped it back into place.

"What now?" Dean was shouting the question at Sam through the hole, watching horrified as the salt started to shift under the tulpa's attack. "I don't know!" Sam shouted back. They'd exhausted all their options. They were officially screwed.

Sam was backing steadily up the bed toward Fran, keeping himself between her sleeping body and her angry nightmare. His back to her he didn't notice her eyes open. Almost jumped when she put a hand on his leg to get his attention. The distraction was just enough to get the tulpa the moment it needed for attack and it sent Sam flying off the bed and into one of the walls. Even winded and dizzy as he was from the impact he could clearly see the rent in the circle.

Fran looked terrified. He wanted to get up…wanted to get back between them…wanted to but couldn't. Turned out he didn't need to. Fran let the monster move in close, close enough that she could feel it's breath on her face. Cold as death with the overpowering sweet-sour scent of rot. Then at the very last second, just as those long knobby fingers reached out to grab her, the fear turned to anger and Fran was whipping out the gun. Squeezing her fingers on the trigger she didn't even feel the kick back like she had in the car. Red eyes went wide just inches away from her own, wide and scared before it looked down at its own knobby fingers. There was goo leaking onto them from where the rock salt had hit home.

"What the hell?" Sam's voice from where he still sat, completely confused. They'd tried the rock salt already…

"It's _her _Sam! She's got to be the one to do it!" Hoarse words just barely reaching Sam's ears before he started shouting to her himself.

"Keep shooting Franny! Don't stop until she's gone!"

and so help her that's exactly what she did.

Once, twice, three times and it was on the floor. Four… shrieking…five… the wind in the room died down… six and the candles came back to life. With the seventh and final shot the apparition literally shattered before their eyes, pieces falling with the same tinkling sound Dean's windshield had made earlier in the parking lot. As the last piece came to rest on the carpeting they all just disappeared leaving just the three hunters, Franny and the mess that was now Cal's guest room.

Cal kicked one of the closet doors right off it's hinges just as the room went quiet, stumbling out with face flushed red and eyes angry. "Where the hell is she? That damn thing is in for a world of hurt." Wildly scanning the room for a sign, any sign of a flying blonde woman ready to kill it off with her bare hands.

Dean turned the doorknob and let himself back into the room as calmly as possible. "Fran got her Cal. It's gone, and it's not coming back." He was breathing heavily, his arm hanging at a slightly odd angle and a small, slick bloodstain on his sleeve where he'd been grazed by his own knife.

"Seriously?" She asked him, eyes flicking from his, to Sam's and then to Fran who was still sitting up on her knees on the bed with the gun gripped in both hands. "Yeah. Seriously." Fran just nodded, yeah. That was all the confirmation Cal needed.

She watched Sam haul himself to his feet and make his way over to a shell-shocked Fran. Watched as he wrapped warm comforting hands around hers and gently pried the cooling metal from between her fingers. She didn't need to see anymore. Fran was in good hands.

Turning her attention back to Dean she arched a brow at him. "So… a shoulder out of joint, a nasty cut and looks like you're going to have more than a couple of nasty bruises on the other arm too… and you're calling _me_ unlucky and accident prone?"

"At least I'm not soaked to the bone in holy water…"

"Yeah, yeah. Say whatever you want but I'll take a little water over a beating any day. This girl managed to get out without even as much as a scratch or bruise…"

"Because you got locked in the damned closet…"

She slipped an arm around Dean's waist and led him out toward the bathroom.

"Come on you big baby, let's go get you cleaned up…"

"I resent that."

They were out in the hallway and their voices quietly drifted back through the door.

"No, you _resemble_ that. There's a difference."

The friendly insults and easy banter soothing to the remaining two people left in the room.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

Fran was exhausted. Shell-shocked, weary and downright exhausted. Just sitting there on the bed next to Sam staring dumbly at the spot on the floor where the tulpa had fallen. She _knew _what she had just done. Had seen it with her own eyes, felt the shock of it echo through her fingers and up her arms with every shot fired and still her mind couldn't quite process the fact that she had just destroyed her own nightmare.

Her fingers were curled so tightly around Dean's gun that when Sam finally wrapped his big warm fingers around hers and took it away its shape was clearly etched on the skin of the palms of her hands. He wondered if she even realized she was shaking as he rubbed the circulation back into those palms.

It was Dean's almighty groan that came roaring out of the bathroom that finally snapped her out of it. Apparently Cal hadn't wasted any time resetting his shoulder. The sound that ripped out of his brother was every bit as loud and painful as his arm must have felt. As much as Sam hated knowing Dean was hurt in any way, well seeing those pretty eyes lose that glazed look might actually have been worth it.

They weren't glazed over any more…but they were showing the effects of two incredibly long days and nights. Bloodshot, red and purple rimmed those poor eyes stood out all too clearly on cheeks far too pale. The look she gave Sam was indefinable before she just leaned in towards him. Touching her forehead to his she finally spoke.

"I sure kicked _her_ ass, didn't I?

Sam smiled. "Yeah Franny, you sure did."

"So this stuff we did tonight…this hunting stuff? That's what you guys do?"

"It is."

"I think I'm starting to understand why Cal didn't want to tell me about any of it. God Sam… when I saw you go flying across the room like that…I've never been so scared."

"Yeah, well… when I saw that thing come at you. Only one time I can remember when I was that scared myself."

He knew that's all he needed to say. Fran would understand what he meant. A soft look, the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek and he was smiling at her again. There wasn't any doubt for Sam anymore. He wanted more….more of this…more of Fran…just more. It would be hard. Damn hard. Working around the hunting and Fran being tied in with the bar. But he was used to hard wasn't he, and this? Yeah, this was worth it.

Pulling back a little he gently brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears. Dean was at the door again. "Sam?" Not particularly wanting to bother the lovebirds but worried because neither had moved yet. He had to know that neither of them were hurt. "Fine Dean. Just a couple of bruises." That reassurance enough for Dean, he just nodded and moved on to find Cal, some food and a bed…in that order.

There were about a million and one things Sam wanted to say...a thousand and one reassurances that they'd make it work…countless plans that were suddenly forming in his mind that she had inspired, plans for a future that until recently he'd given up on. So many ways he wanted to thank her for just…being.

Those eyes were what stopped him… the ones that were blinking owlishly from behind long lashes as she fought the sleep she'd held off for so long. His decision was instantaneous. There would be time enough in the morning to say it all. For once they had nothing _but_ time. Instead of speaking he pulled her to him, needing to feel her close. To remind himself that yeah, she really was in one piece and alive after all that. "You need to rest."

His voice was a rumble in his chest under her cheek punctuated by steady heartbeat and that comforting scent that was purely Sam. She made no sound, made no effort to move, just leaned in closer and closed her eyes as big warm arms wrapped themselves around her. Fran wouldn't remember her head touching the pillow because Sam was the one to ease her sleeping body down and pull the covers around her again.

He got up off the bed just long enough to reshape the salt circle around the bed, just in case, and snuff out the candles. When Dean came to the doorway again a few minutes later Sam was curled up on the bed with Fran tucked safely in his arms again, snoring softly. Yeah, that feeling he'd had the day before…before all this tulpa stuff had started happening…the one that all was right with the world? Dean could get used to it real fast. When Cal called softly from the kitchen, asking him what he wanted on his half of the pizza she was ordering he shook his head and wondered what the hell he'd ever done to deserve to have it this good.

* * *

In a stunt remarkably reminiscent of Cal's flight from Bobby's place, Fran woke in the middle of the night packed up her things and left. Knowing what would come next now that the tulpa was gone she found herself unable to face it. How long would it be until the next hunt? Until the day Sam would walk away. She just wasn't strong enough for goodbye.

Fran was sitting in the front lobby, sharing small talk with the door man as she waited for the rental car the front desk guy had let her order from his phone. Apparently she hadn't been as quiet as she'd thought because Cal was coming off the elevator wearing nothing but a pair of cartoon laden boxers and an AC/DC t-shirt that had definitely seen better days.

"One question hun: you sure about this? 'Cause you're about to break that boy's heart in the worst kind of way and _I _need to know that you're sure this is what you want."

"I've watched a lot of sleazebag assholes walk away and break my heart Cal… Eventually…eventually you guys are going to head out on the road again, back to the hunt and I… well I just can't watch this one walk away." And really? There was just nothing Cal could say to that.

In a completely uncharacteristic move, Cal reached out and hugged Fran close. "I'm sorry hun, sorry you had to go through all this."

"It's okay Cal. I'm okay. I just…I need to get back home." She needed to get back to the bar, back to normal…or as normal as it would ever get now that she knew what was out there. Needed to get somewhere and start putting Sam behind her, somehow.

"You sure you won't wait 'till the morning at least? Get a little more sleep, grab some breakfast before leaving?" Fran just shook her head. She'd made up her mind. She was leaving, and she was doing it now. Alright then, guess all Cal could do was roll with it.

"Hey Billy?" Cal called out to the front desk guy. "Call and cancel that rental car, will you?"

"Sure thing miss Watson." He answered her, already dialing the number.

"Cal, what the hell?" Fran asked her angrily. No way she was going to be bullied into staying, the girl should _know _her better than that by now.

"Relax Fran." Cal smiled, placing a set of keys in her friends hand. "I, uh, need somebody to take my 'Stang home for me. The Impala's got more room and I don't see Dean agreeing to riding shotgun on a road trip if you know what I mean."

And now it was Fran's turn to ask if she was sure.

"Yeah. Yeah Franny, I'm sure. Besides, I'll feel a lot safer knowing that the, uh, _toys _I've got stashed in there are going with you." Fran grinned at her.

"You're kidding right? You're going to send me home with some of your hunting gear?"

Cal just shook her head and shrugged. "Yeah well, if I'm not going to be there to watch your back then I want to know you've got what you need to protect yourself. Come on, I'll walk you down."

* * *

A little later, when she crawled back into bed chilled from the night air Dean woke up and wrapped his arms around her.

"She left didn't she?" he asked gruffly, as if he'd been expecting it to happen.

"Yeah." A soft breath of a whisper against the skin of his arm.

"How's she getting home?"

"Gave her the keys to my car."

"Sam's not going to take it well."

"Maybe not, but they'll work it out. If they care about each other as much as I think they do, they'll work it out. We did, didn't we?"

"Yeah. Guess you're right." He pulled her in a little closer and tucked himself around her, needing the contact to reassure himself that she really was there.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Cal?"

"I'm glad you came looking for me."

"Me too sweetheart. Me too."

* * *

When Sam woke it was to the warmth of morning light on his face streaming in from the window and the comforting smell of freshly made coffee. Eyes closed he smiled, content to just lie there knowing Fran was close and enjoying that feeling of _right._ It wasn't until he reached over to pull her to him again that he realized she wasn't in bed anymore. Huh. Well, she couldn't have been up long. Probably just wanted a cup of coffee and a few minutes to herself to digest everything that had happened.

He smiled again, anticipation of a sleep mussed Fran and the best coffee he'd ever tasted. Not even the stiff, sore feeling from his run-in with the wall the night before couldn't ruin his mood as he rolled off the bed and stretched. Time to hunt down that coffee and start saying all those things he'd put off the night before.

It was a pleasant surprise to find Dean already up, newspaper open to the comics and a cup of coffee in hand. Still no Franny though…maybe she was in the shower?

"Hey man, sleep well?" Dean asked him, something a little odd in his voice. Hesitant.

"Yeah, actually. Haven't slept that well in ages." Pouring himself a coffee he started counting the minutes. Couldn't hear the water for the shower running so it wouldn't be long now… and he liked the way her hair curled a little at the ends when it was still damp from the shower. Almost as cute as the sleep mussed look. Man, good thing Dean couldn't read minds because he'd never hear the end of it.

"Anything interesting in there today?" he asked, sitting down across from Dean who was now watching him carefully.

"Not sure… haven't got passed Garfield yet."

When Sam laughed, actually _laughed _Dean knew they were in trouble. Little brother hadn't clued in yet that the girl was gone.

"Dude, I never thought I'd see you checking out the funny pages before the obits."

"Yeah well, there's a first time for everything isn't there?" Dean laughed a little too, and then _Sam_ knew there was trouble because Dean was doing that throat clearing/cough thing he always did when there was bad news.

He didn't want to ask what it was…didn't want to know yet. Was happy just to sit there and savor that content feeling he'd had since waking up. So he just sat there and sipped at his coffee, ready and willing to ignore his brother's attempt to get his attention. Too bad Dean was too stubborn to let him get away with it.

"Uh, dude…"

Sam just sighed. Well, it had been worth a try, right?

"Yeah?"

"About Fran…"

Oh. Okay. Guess it wasn't a bad thing after all. Apparently Dean was in big brother mode this morning. He wasn't usually one for the chic flick relationship talk stuff but on occasion when it came to girls he'd take it upon himself share little bits of wisdom because according to him that's just what big brothers did.

Uh, and speaking of Fran…she was taking an awfully long time in that bathroom… could she maybe have gone out? Maybe she was picking up breakfast…

"She, uh, left last night."

Wait a second. Had Dean just said…? No. No way. Must've heard him wrong.

"Come again?"

"She's gone Sammy."

"Oh, so you were up when she went out then? I kind of figured she went to grab some breakfast or something."

"No, I mean she's _gone _Sam." Voice low, eyes pleading with him to understand what he was trying to say. No, Dean couldn't possibly be serious. "…bags gone…" Had to be wrong… had to see for himself. Sam made his way into the living room and sure enough there was bedroom furniture scattered around the room, his bags and a pile of clothes but Fran's suitcases were gone. What the hell was going on?

"Cal, she uh gave Fran the keys to her Mustang so she could park it up at the farmhouse for us…" Not for the first time Dean wished he could do that freaky mind reading thing. He'd have given anything to know what the hell was going on in Sam's head right then.

"Dean…?" God, his voice sounded small, distant even to his own ears.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"She's, uh… she's not coming back is she?"

Answering that question right there? Yeah, it was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"No Sam. I don't think she is."

Sam's face, the one that had always been so open and expressive, suddenly shut down. Replaced with the best poker face Dean had ever seen.

"Oh."

Nine thirty in the morning on a Tuesday in late November Dean watched his little brother's heart break for the second time and he hated himself for having played a part in it.

* * *

For the rest of that morning Sam tried to pretend like everything was fine. He never really had been any good at hiding his feelings from Dean, and he really didn't know what made him think he'd get away with it this time. The first clue he'd failed came in the form of Dean's tentative 'so… you, uh, wanna talk about it?'

He skipped lunch and cleaned up the bedroom instead. By himself. Because he just didn't want to be around anyone yet. There was some small comfort in the 'normal' of vaccuming, even if it was a salt circle he was cleaning up. Felt good to feel the burn of muscles working as he moved the furniture back in to the room and as he took the broken door down to be thrown away and replaced.

The minutes dragged on like hours, the hours like years. She was everywhere. In the smell of coffee brewing in the morning, on the couch beside him if only in memory like that first night she'd spent at Cal's…the worst though was the bed where her scent was still on the sheets where she'd slept after killing off the tulpa.

By Thursday morning he was sure he couldn't take anymore. Four o'clock that afternoon Dean watched him grab up his coat and walk out the door. Okay, the guy needed some air. He could understand it. Truth be told Dean was actually kind of relieved to get a break from all that tension. Maybe some time out would do him some good. Help him get over this thing.

When suppertime came and went and there still wasn't any sign of Sam, Dean got worried. A quick dial out and the soft, persistent ringing echoing from the kitchen told him that Sam had left his cell behind. Great. Just freaking perfect.

He was on the third panic driven call to _another_ local ER when Cal suggested he try the closest local bars instead. Well, it only made sense. He himself had gone out and got himself hammered that last time Cal had taken off.

And that's how Dean got here. Standing by himself in front of the seediest bar in all of New York city and wondering what in the hell is waiting for him in there.

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	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter Twenty**_

Sammy's sitting at the bar, head bowed down so low it's practically resting on the scarred wood. Upside down empty shot glasses lined up in front of him like trophies and what had to be his six or seventh bottle of beer in hand. Dude was in seriously rough shape.

Lifting his head just long enough to take a swig out of the sweaty bottle he shoots a dark look around the room. He knows he won't find her anywhere but he looks all the same… and then those dark angry eyes fall upon the jukebox.

Dean comes through the door just in time to watch his brother haul himself up off the stool he'd been glued to all night and stumble purposefully over to the jukebox. Curious, he leans back on the wall by the door and watches as Sam carefully presses the two buttons and stumbles back to the bar before the song starts.

It's only halfway through the current song so there's a few minutes before Sam's will start and Dean decides it's as good a time as any to saunter over to the bar and sit down next to him. He doesn't take his eyes off his little brother, who won't look anywhere but at the bottle in his hand and the bar beneath it.

There's the sound of acoustic guitar strumming that reeks of country as the next song starts and Garth Brooks' twangy voice starts to slowly pour out the lyrics to the song Sam chose. Dean's eyes go saucer-wide, eyebrows shooting up to hairline and mouth gaping in surprise. Sam just lifts his hand in the bartender's general direction and apparently they've worked out a code because suddenly there's a shot of whisky and a fresh beer on the bar ready for consumption.

Dean watches in shock as Sam chugs back the shot of whisky in time to the chorus, _Oh, I've got friends in low places. Where the whisky drowns and the beer chases my blues away…_eyes closed and face scrunched up as if he'd been punched in the gut. Damn… this was worse than Dean could ever have possibly imagined.

"Dude, you're kidding me right? Country music? Country _drinking _music?"

Sam, apparently ever the conversationalist, has nothing but an ugly scowl for Dean before he bends back to work getting stone drunk in a useless effort to numb himself completely. Damned if he couldn't even get _that _right because right now the numbness he was after felt uncomfortably like wallowing in self pity. Oh well, probably just haven't had enough to drink yet…

Dean's got a different take on the situation though, something Sam quickly realizes as the beer in front of him suddenly disappears.

"I think you've had enough Sammy. Time to go."

But he hasn't really, not nearly enough…because it still hurts so freaking much he thinks he might actually _die_ from it and how the hell is he supposed to deal with that? So much easier to just embalm himself with whiskey and beer…and yeah, maybe a little tequila…until it all just goes away…

"No… not going yet… Dean… juss leave me be." He somehow manages to slurr out. Only instead of managing to convince his brother to just leave him to his own self destruction it's strengthened his resolve to get Sammy the hell out of that bar.

"Dude, you're drinking in time with freaking Garth Brooks. Now, that's just _not_ healthy. No _way_ am I just leaving you here like this. We're heading back. Now."

Damn that protective big brother thing. Sam lifted a hand again for another shot… which Dean intercepts and slings back himself. He'll need it for what he's about to do.

Tossing some bills down on the bar he makes eye contact with the bartender who nods at him with an easy smile. _Sure, that'll be enough to cover the tab_. Then he places two big warm hands on shoulders much wider than his own that somehow seem far more fragile.

"Alright there big boy, let's get you to the car."

_She'd _called him that. Teasingly, always…but affectionately. At least she had… you know, until she'd _left_.

"Why? So I can sit around and see her everywhere she's not and feel miserable all over again?"

"No, so you can sleep this booze induced insanity off and get on with the hangover so you can start being _Sam_ again."

"What if I don't want to? She's gone Dean. She just up and left. Just like that." Alcohol stretching out the esses and keeping him from snapping his fingers no matter how hard he tried. Dean said nothing of course, just slipped an arm under an armpit and around Sam's back half carrying, half dragging him out to the Impala.

One look at the backseat had Sam groaning painfully at memories of that kiss and Fran's prettily flushed cheeks…was it just a few days ago?

Dean was rolling his eyes impatiently.

"Sammy, man. You've got to snap the hell out of this! You're a Winchester for chrissake. Dude, you're mooning after that chick like some sixteen year old _girl_."

"I think I love her." Shit… had he said that out loud? Closing his eyes against the possibility he almost passed out from the effects of the night's binging. Dean wasn't about to just let him get away with it though.

Slapping Sam's cheeks lightly to get his eyes open, he eased his gigantic younger brother into the passenger side of the car. "So you love her. That mean you're just going to let her walk away like she did?"

"Dude, I scared her. We scared her. Hell, the _job_ scared her. I _can't_ fix that Dean."

They were on the road now headed back to Cal's apartment and memories Sam was trying desperately to forget.

"Who says you have to fix anything Sam? Yeah, she got scared. Hell man, _I _got scared on this one. Those tulpa's are so frigging unpredictable… well anyway, what I'm trying to say is that the fear is normal. There'd be something wrong with her if she hadn't got scared."

"She… she ran off. Just like that. Middle of the night. No goodbye, no note. Nothing. Doesn't want to have anything to do with me – us anymore." God it hurt worse to put those thoughts into words at last. Hurt so bad.

"You don't know that. She didn't say that."

"No, she ran off instead. Didn't _have_ to say it. I got the message loud and clear thanks."

"Yeah? I wouldn't count on it." Dean knew exactly what was going on with that girl. He just didn't know how to get that across to Sam who had conveniently chosen to pretend not to hear that last comment.

"Look, only one way you'll know for sure right?"

"Meaning?" one word ground out from between clenched teeth in a voice that sounded as if it had been dragged over open coals and broken glass.

"We know where she went Sam. So, we go back up there. You talk to her. Ask her. Find out for sure. Get that… uh, what's that word you're so fond of…? Closure?"

Sam huffed out what any other day might have been a cynical chuckle that today came out twisted and ugly. Dean still couldn't believe Sam had just let himself go like that.

Pulling the Impala sharply over to the side of the road and parking it abruptly he whipped his head around to glare at Sam. "Alright. Enough's enough already. Pathetic just isn't the word anymore. This is what's happening: I'm taking you back to Cal's. You're sobering the hell up. We're packing up the damned car again and I'm hauling you back up to that godforsaken little hole in the wall Canadian town. Because you, brother, are talking to that girl."

Sam didn't bother saying anything. There was no arguing with Dean when he was like that and frankly he was far too drunk to want to try. So fine. If his brother wanted to have front row seats to the rejection of a lifetime then _fine_. Not like he had any pride left right now anyway right?

Odd that he should finally feel calm, now that the decision of what to do about this awful mess had been taken out of his hands. Moments later he was lulled into a dreamless, drink induced sleep by the rumble of the engine. He wouldn't wake up again until after they'd crossed the border.

* * *

It's early morning when they finally get there… That little township just past Winchester Springs._ Oh the irony_ Dean thinks to himself rolling his eyes. Figures they'd pick up the only two chicks in the universe who'd actually be okay with their lifestyle someplace in the Canadian boonies close to a place called Winchester Springs for chrissake.

He'd dropped Cal off at her parent's place because she wanted to air the place out. They'd be bunking down there for a bit… there'd been a couple of freak accidents at a farm just outside of Ottawa that were worth checking out. So they would. You know, something to do while Sam worked out the emo crap with this Fran chick…and good _God_ he hoped to hell they worked it out because Sam drinking to Garth Brooks? Yeah, not something he wanted to ever see again. Ever. He couldn't stress that point enough. Seriously.

Sam slept pretty much from the bar in New York until they got up to Fran's place… Pretty much, you know except for the about two dozen stops they'd had to make so he could throw up the booze he was drowning in by the side of the road. Dean seriously doubted the kid would remember _any _of it but at least he'd be sober when he walked in there…he hoped. Maybe he should have hosed Sam down at Cal's first? Because the smell wasn't going to help him much. Oh well. Too late now right? If the girl didn't want him hung over and reeking like this then she should have never have left right? Heh heh. Payback's a bitch.

Reaching over he shook the sleeping shaggy mammoth next to him roughly, earning himself a groan and a growl from his little brother. "Come on, wakie wakie big guy. We're here. Time for you to get in there."

Dean was the proud recipient of a hateful glare coming from the bloodshot eyes that were just barely making an appearance from behind slitted lids. Oh yeah, Sammy was _definitely _feeling the burn from that binge he went on. "What's the matter Sammy? Feeling rough around the edges this morning? Good. Maybe next time you'll think twice about drinking yourself stupid over some girl."

"Hey, nothin' _you've_ never done before."

Yeah, he _would_ bring up that night after they'd left Cassie. Or did he mean that last time Cal had taken off? Ah, didn't really matter because Dean? Yeah, he could hold his liquor past the third beer and the fourth shot…unlike the hairy sasquatch hunched over on the seat next to him. So Dean did what he always did and laughed it off. "Maybe so Sammy, maybe so… but I can hold my liquor and you obviously can't. Which is really gonna suck when you go in there to talk to Fran with that wicked headache I can already tell you're gonna have."

Baleful look over towards the Chez Henri and a question that was barely audible except that Dean knew it was coming. "You sure she's in there?"

"Yeah man, I'm sure."

"She could have gone somewhere else. Run and cover tracks like Cal did, like we always do."

"She could have, but she didn't. You know why? Because that girl is down home normal. Okay, well maybe not all that normal, but she's definitely the closest thing you'll ever get to it…and you know what else man?"

"What Dean?"

"I'd be willing to bet hard earned hustled money that she'll be happy you came. Surprised as all hell…but happy."

"Ha. Right."

"Go on. Get in there already." Dean said all but pushing Sam out the door. "and I'd try the back way first if I were you. The place isn't open yet so she'll probably upstairs in her apartment."

Sam waved him off impatiently and stumbled off towards the back of the building. Dean couldn't help but watch his brother climbing the stairs at the back of the building by twos and threes to get to Fran's apartment door. _Good luck little brother _he thought to himself as he headed back to Cal's though he was pretty sure Sam wouldn't need it. He had a feeling that their little group was about to become one person larger.

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	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter Twenty-One**_

The last few days _should_ have been a blur, a fuzzy jumble of half remembered events in the faded tones of old black and white photographs. The should have been but they weren't. For the first hundred miles of the drive all she wanted was home. To be serving drinks across her bar to familiar faces she'd known her whole life. Those first hundred miles it had all seemed so clear… and then her cell phone had gone off.

Sam had only called the once. Must have been right after he realized she was gone. She didn't dare pick up. Knew that all it would take was a 'please' and she'd be turning the car around and speeding right back to New York. Let the voice mail do it instead. His message had been short and sweet. Seven words with the sound of running water in the background. Must've run the shower so Dean and Cal wouldn't hear him make the call.

_Hi. It's Sam. Call me back…okay?_

She wanted to so badly. Pulled the car over, cell phone in hand and fingers hovering over the buttons…But how the hell was she supposed to explain this? How could she possibly expect him to understand? He'd only seen the okay parts of her so far… hadn't seen any of the crap that came before. The hell she'd had to scrape her way out of to get where she was now. The endless string of assholes that had almost broken her…almost, came damn close to it. Couldn't recognize her own face looking back at her in the mirror for awhile. Almost broken, but not quite.

It had been so hard…so hard to put all those pieces back together. Some of them lost forever and others so altered that they'd never fit the same ever again. Still, she liked who she was now. Was stronger for all that crap she'd been through. Until a few days ago she'd been sure that whatever life threw at her she could take head on and come out of it shining. Until she'd gotten to know Sam Winchester. Until she'd fallen in love again. Damn.

The difference between Sam and all the other guys she'd ever known? Well other than the obvious fact that he wasn't a self-centered, egotistical sleazebag. The difference was that with Sam, big hairy sasquatch that he was, she couldn't just turn off the emotion like she did the others. A few hours with this guy and it felt like he just belonged there in that part of her life that she hadn't realized was empty until he showed up and filled it. The one that right this very second was blinking in bright neon lights to the rhythm of the pounding in her head _SamSamSam…_

But Sam…Sam, Dean and Cal, they were modern day warriors really. Hunters of nightmares and all the stuff that no one really believed in anymore. Sam, well he'd _have _to leave eventually and when he did he wouldn't come back. And that? Well she was pretty damned sure that _that _right there would be the one thing that could break her completely.

Which was why she left. Self preservation. Except it wasn't really working out as well as she'd hoped.

After that first hundred miles home didn't seem so appealing. There were memories of him at the bar too. Hours of small talk and conversations of this, that and the other thing to kill time during those days after JC and Billie had died while Cal and Dean did their thing. Funny how she hadn't thought much of it at the time but the best part of those conversations had been the natural easiness, the heartfelt laughter. If they'd stayed a little longer then she would have recognized it for what it was…the beginning. Yeah, so maybe she wasn't ready to go home either.

So she drove. Crossed back over to the Canadian side in Niagara Falls. She spent that night driving around downtown Toronto…not really seeing what she passed. Stuck in her own head, even as she tried so hard to just forget. Fran gave up on trying to distract herself somewhere around two a.m. Wednesday morning.

At three am, after spending a full hour just sitting there staring at her cell phone she hit the highway again and started driving towards Ottawa. What should have been a six hour drive tuned out twice as long because she stopped at ever Tim Horton's along the way. Once again using the coffee as a means to keep the dreams away.

The coffee failed her somewhere around Elgin street, downtown Ottawa. She knew she'd have to stop somewhere for a bit when her eyes started to drift closed as she drove. Pulling up to the first hotel that came into view she handed her keys to the kid working the valet parking and walked in to the Lord Elgin hotel. That night was about the only thing she didn't remember of that long drive. Just that in the morning she woke up completely disoriented and fully expecting to be back in Cal's apartment. It was a huge disappointment to find herself at the hotel. She didn't waste any more time getting home after that.

Chez Henri was in the middle of its lunch hour rush when Fran finally pulled into the parking lot. The plan had been to walk into the place and pick up where she'd left off. It was a good plan, really it was. Just not a very realistic one.

Walking into her little bar was like walking into a bad episode of 'Cheers'. There was a loud chorus of _Fran! _And everyone in the place stopped what they were doing to say hello. It was way too much, way too soon. Fran made a beeline for her office and didn't come out again until just before the dinner rush.

A few hours helping her waitresses on the floor, a few hours behind the bar, about a dozen long neck bottles and it was almost as if she'd never left. She almost managed to forget about Cal, obnoxious Winchester men, tulpas, rock salt and Sam. Almost. Then about an hour before last call she caught sight of the back of a shaggy head of dark hair. The hair, of course, didn't belong to Sam…the body it was attached to was much shorter and smaller. Just one of the local kids out for a couple of brews and a game of pool with the guys.

Suddenly feeling a little shaky she asked one of the girls to stay on and close up for her and snuck upstairs to her apartment. So far…so far she'd managed not to cry. Had managed to fight the tears. Just another fight she'd been destined to lose.

One lonely tear was all it took. A single drop of salt water slowly tracing its path down her cheek and then suddenly there wasn't just the one anymore. Fran didn't think she'd ever be able to make them stop.

Somewhere around four o'clock Thursday afternoon she called Cal on her cell. It was probably a bad idea. If Sam was there he might ask to talk to her. But she was heartbroken and there really wasn't anyone else to talk to about this was there? What would she say when they started asking questions about this mystery heartbreaker? _Oh, he's just your average tall, dark and handsome hunter…no, not like deer or bear… spirits, boogeymen and demon are more his style. _Yeah, they'd probably have her commited.

Cal didn't answer though. So Fran was left to her own devices to deal.

Chocolate, chick flicks, sad music and a hell of a lot of alcohol. She put the bottle of Jack down at around midnight when she realized she was singing along to the music filtering up through the floor from the bar. Carl singing karaoke to Garth Brooks, Friends in Low Places… yeah, and she was pretty sure she'd just hit a new low.

First thing Fran was conscious of Friday morning was a god-awful pounding in her head…loud enough to shatter her sensitive skull, she was sure of it. God, she was _never _getting drunk again…_ever_. Seemed like a good way to forget at the time. A last resort when nothing else worked. Really though? Well if anything the alcohol made it worse, sharpened the pain and actually helped the emotional tidal wave along.

How long had she slept? Couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. Still felt like early morning…and it was really dark in here…wait, that was probably because she had the blankets pulled up over her head…

The pounding wouldn't stop, though she was pretty sure now that it wasn't associated to the pain racking her brain. No, the sound was coming from outside her little bubble of blankets. Someone was trying to knock her door down. Fine. Let 'em. She wasn't ready to move yet. Wasn't ready to join the outside world. Of course, whoever it was that was doing the pounding didn't seem to want to understand that…or maybe they did because after a few minutes they stopped. Well good. Now she could go back to moping in peace.

Took her a minute to realize that whoever it was hadn't actually gone away. There was a scratchy, clicking sound that had replaced the banging and if she didn't know any better… aw hell! Somebody was picking the lock to her apartment door. Damn local boys. Wouldn't be the first time one of 'em tried to get the keys to the bar to open it up early.

She'd thrown off the covers, run to the door and thrown it wide open not caring what she looked like or who the heck was there. "Listen man, I don't care _how _far we all go back around here this shit isn't funny. La place est ferme! The bar is goddamned closed, and I'll be damned if I open it at the butt-crack of dawn just so you boys can have a morning brewsky. Am I making myself clear here or d'you want me to say it in French for you too"

And then she got a good look at the guy.

Had to look up to get it actually because he was freaking huge.

With a mop of shaggy brown hair…

Shit.

"You're not a local boy."

Yeah, the thing she hated the most about being hung over? The uncanny ability it gave her to state the obvious.

"No. I guess I'm not."

He looked…well upset would probably be understating things a little. Actually, he looked every bit as hung over as she felt. Ugh, just the though of her late night binge and the headache was back. Maybe if she just closed her eyes he'd disappear…worth a try. Squeezing them tightly shut she turned on her heel and felt her way toward the bathroom.

"Ugh. Stupid hangovers and stupid headaches." And stupid men who couldn't leave well enough alone and let you wallow in your own damned heartbreak… "Need Tylenol." She was muttering to herself unhappily.

After downing the pain relievers and a whole glass of water, eyes still tightly shut against the morning light, she'd managed to convince herself that Sam wasn't really there. Just a figment of her imagination. Product of _way_ too much booze. Couldn't be healthy to be hallucinating like that…maybe she ought to get someone to drive her in to the hospital?

Fran made it halfway across her own living room before she ran into a wall… only it was too soft to be a wall… and there just wasn't one in the middle of her living room anyway… so she had to open her eyes and see just what the hell it was…and was forced to face reality. She wasn't hallucinating. She wouldn't need a hospital. He was right there, towering above her.

"Sam."

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	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter Twenty-Two**_

There wasn't much he could have done differently really. He'd knocked for nearly ten straight minutes and there had been no answer. Given the fact that he wasn't exactly feeling his best and that mid-November in Canada was damned cold Sam wasn't about to walk all the way back to Cal's. The prospect of waiting it out until either Dean came back or Fran showed up wasn't too appealing either. So he started working the lock. If he was going to wait at least he'd be warm, the hell with the consequences.

The lock itself was a giant pain in the ass. Probably because his fingers were stiff and cold. Might've been the weather, but he preferred to blame the lock. You know, because it couldn't possibly be the hangover he was determined not to feel. So, it was the lock's fault really. It was the one making all the noise and it kept sticking… at least it was until the door swung open.

She reminded him of a wild, angry lioness. Light brown hair sticking out around her head like a mane, roaring angrily about brewskies, the butt-crack of dawn and that this just wasn't funny no matter how far back everyone went around here. Of course, he had no idea what she was talking about. Didn't really care either once he got a good look at her. Was she hung over? Sure looked like it. Well then, that was mighty interesting.

Then she'd just stopped, stared at his chest a second and then looked up. The look of surprise had been absolutely priceless. "You're not a local boy." she'd said before squeezing her eyes shut and storming off to the bathroom, muttering to herself all the way. Nope, he sure wasn't. But she already knew that.

Okay. So maybe it wasn't the smoothest move in the world. Probably wasn't the best question to open with either. Apparently though he was still too hung over to be able to control what came out of his big mouth.

When she'd come back out of that bathroom, eyes still firmly closed still dressed in nothing but a tank top and underwear he couldn't resist. A step to the right and he was right in her way. Eyes closed like that the only thing that _could_ have happened did. Franny ran right into him. Nearly fell over when she did too and then finally opened her eyes. What he saw there he couldn't begin to try to put a name to…and then she'd said his name, voice all scratchy broken-sounding.

In his defense he had in fact seen the fragility in her eyes, the hurt…the regret. He'd seen it and recognized it for what it was. Unfortunately his head was running at half speed and with a mind of its own so instead of saying something sensitive, something intelligent… something to ease her mind…yeah, instead he'd asked her the type of question that would normally have come from Dean.

"Do you always answer the door half naked when you're yelling at the local boys?" First thought that came to mind after he'd said it was _Oh God! Did I really just say that? _Followed very closely with the realization that if she answered him with a yes…well he was going to have to look into becoming a Canadian citizen because waiting ten minutes in the cold for her to come storming out in nothing but that? Yeah, totally worth it.

It took a minute for his eyes to get from the socks on her feet, past her legs, around every other curve on the way up before he finally got to see the reaction on her face. She looked down once, looked back up at Sam and then back down at herself again…let out a loud, embarrassed groan and then disappeared into what he could only assume was her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

That had been ten minutes ago.

Ten minutes and not even the hint of a sound coming from the other room.

Sam was starting to get worried.

Big hands, gently knocking on a surprisingly flimsy door and a question called out in the quiet of the apartment. "Hey, you okay in there?"

A muffled, uptight little 'no' stretched the across distance between them followed by a grumpy 'go 'way... 'm too hung over to deal with a tulpa today'.

Apparently she thought he was a thought form. "Uh, Franny…I'm not a tulpa." He couldn't help the laughter. It was just too cute.

"Sure y'are. Sam's in New York and you're too damned solid to be a hallucination. Built like a brick wall, man. Seriously."

"Yeah well, tulpa or no we need to talk…"

"No can do amigo. I refuse to negotiate with a figment of imagination."

Fingers working through his hair he let out a frustrated breath and leaned back on the wall next to the door. "What's it going to take for me to convince you I'm actually here Fran?"

He was met with an annoyed moan and the sound of rustling blankets.

It was nowhere near an invitation to come in, but he took it as one anyway. Enough was enough.

So much for angry lioness. Now she was like a five year old child. Nothing but a big lump completely covered in blankets. Sighing loudly he sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to the lump. "I saw the bottle of Jack in the living room…"

"I said go 'way."

"No."

"Great. I dream up tulpa-Sam, but with Dean 'tude." She grumbled.

"If it makes you feel any better about the hangover I've got one too."

Apparently Fran had come to the conclusion that she couldn't avoid this thing, whatever it was, sitting next to her on the bed because suddenly the top of the blanket came down to reveal her head and shoulders. There was still a long arm covering a pretty face… but at least she wasn't hiding under a blanket anymore…which could sort of be considered progress Sam supposed. "I don't believe you. You look too together to be hung over."

"Ha. Well thanks, that's a huge compliment considering. 'Course that'd probably be because I left most of the two dozen shots of whiskey and the six or seven beers it took to get me up here by the side of the road coming up. Not that I'm feeling anywhere near human yet."

The arm came down and she gave him the once over through slitted lids. "You had to get drunk to come up here?"

"Well, no. I was getting drunk to numb the pain. Dean took advantage of the situation to bypass my decision to respect _your_ decision to leave. I, uh, passed out in his car on the way home from the bar and when I woke up we were already on the road. By then it was too late to argue. He was right though and I should have come up here sooner."

"So… um…" she was twisting the blanket under her fingers as she asked "Why did you come up here?" Fran didn't look at him, looked like she was afraid to.

"I needed to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why you left. Why you didn't wake me up and say something before you did. Why you never called me back."

"I…was scared."

"You're kidding right?"

"No Sam. I'm not." And he could tell from the dead seriousness of her expression that she really wasn't.

"Alright. Let me get this straight… you chase down car thieves for stealing from you, you throw men four times your size out of your bar at gunpoint without even so much as blinking… God, you took down a damn tulpa all by yourself…and you're scared of _me_? For God's sake Franny, if anything _I_ should be the one scared of _you_."

"Haha, real funny. Big guy like you afraid of a little girl like me."

She was trying to lighten the mood but it wasn't working. Sam kept that serious look and she just knew he wouldn't leave her alone until he got the answers he was looking for. Another interesting fact to file away in the back of her mind: the main Winchester trait seemed to be stubbornness Which…you know…was just fabulous news for her right then.

"Look, you're a hunter. Sooner or later you were going to hit the road again and disappear. I thought… I thought at first that I could deal with it. Take what I could get for as long as I could have it and then let you go when the time came. But you were just so _wonderful_ and I started to really care, you know?" But he didn't look like he did. Just watched her carefully, waiting for her to go on.

"When I woke up that night, after everything happened…all I could do was lie there and watch you sleep at first. I started thinking about what we would do in the morning and wondering how much time I'd have with you before… before you, Dean and Cal would be ready to leave again. Sam, you've gotta understand. I'm a strong person. The crap I've been through? Well there are two things that happen when you go through that kind of stuff either you break, shatter completely and become an empty shell of the person you once were or you pick yourself up, build yourself some good solid walls and get stronger for it. I am _strong_ Sam but I am _not _strong enough to watch you walk away. I needed to walk away on my own terms because there was no way I was getting out in one piece if I didn't." Well, that had been the theory any way. She'd found out pretty quickly that there was no walking away from that man in one piece, and now look where she was.

"You though I was going to leave?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah. You would have had to eventually, wouldn't you?"

"Well yeah…"

"There you go then." And he'd though Dean was stubborn?

"Fran…you should have _said_ something. Yeah, I _would _have had to leave to go on hunts but I wouldn't have just disappeared. I would have come back. Hell, if you didn't want to see me go you could have come with us. We could have worked something out."

"Didn't think you guys would have gone for that. Cal was pretty clear about her feelings on that one."

"Yeah, well I'm not Cal am I? Besides, after the way you took down that tulpa? She wouldn't have tried to stop you. Hell, even Dean was impressed."

She threw her arm back over her face to hide the emotional mess she'd become and Sam wondered briefly what the hell he was supposed to do to make this better.

"Hey, listen. I get it okay? I know you have a life here. It's safe, it's normal and it's something you worked really hard for. It's not something you want to give up and I'd never ask you to… You've been hurt before…a lot from the sounds of it…and I get that too… It's just that…"

And he hesitated, right there on the edge of spilling out exactly what he was thinking and feeling. Just long enough to wonder if he was doing the right thing, unloading it on her like this. One look at Franny, actually honest-to-god visibly _holding her breath_ waiting to hear what he had to say like it was the secret of life or something…the hesitation was gone. He'd be damned if he didn't give it everything he had to keep her right there where he needed her, beside him.

"There's something I need to tell you about that morning you left, when _I _woke up and before I knew you were gone. Fran… I actually _slept_ that night. Like seven hours straight, no dreams or anything, and it's been a _really_ long time since that's happened. Might not sound like that big of a deal, but it really is. When I woke up it was like the whole word was suddenly different. Like just knowing that you were there next to me made the world a bit of a better place to be. Hunting and all…"

Sam had propped his booted foot up on his knee and was picking at the laces as he talked. Wouldn't look at her like suddenly he was shy around her. She was pretty sure if she squinted she'd see two of him: One the grown man, confident hunter; the other a small boy, insecure and shy about spilling his biggest secret. Before she knew it he was clearing his throat again and going on.

"You've got me thinking about things again…things I'd given up on after Jess…ha, I've even caught myself making _plans_. Only time I've ever made any kind of plan beyond the next hunt, motel or meal was Stanford… but here I am running over about a million different ways to work the hunt around your normal in my head over and over again…and I don't know. I guess what I'm trying to say is…it's not going to be easy. Not even close…but nothing worth having ever comes easy…and this, for me, is worth it."

Okay, she was pretty sure her heart had stopped…and she was embarrassing herself with the open mouthed staring thing. Before she even realized it her arm was stretching out, hands reaching out to touch him and make sure that he really was real and not just something she'd just dreamed up. Stopping just short of actually touching him though because if he _wasn't_ real she just didn't want to know. Not after all that.

"Fran…" he felt the slight jerk of surprise when he touched his hands to hers, as if she still didn't expect him to be real. "…could you maybe… say something?"

He was really here. Sam was here…big, strong and warm… better make that hot. Yeah hot was definitely the word…and why was it she'd left again? Biggest mistake she'd ever made right there. He wanted her to say something…but she didn't want to talk anymore because all she could think of was the fact that _Sam Winchester_ was sitting on her bed saying all the things she thought she'd never hear…

Took a second for her mind to catch up with her body which apparently had suddenly developed a mind of its own but when it did she wasn't complaining…except maybe about the fact that there were _far_ too many clothes involved.

Her fingers had dug themselves a permanent spot in messy, silky dark hair and they were kissing. Desperate, hungry, drowning type kisses that made her feel like she was about to burst into flame right there in his arms…and those arms? They were holding her as if he was afraid that when he let go she'd be gone again, like he couldn't pull her close enough. Franny was pretty sure that where she was right that second was about the closest to heaven you could ever get.

It wasn't long though before he was pulling away a little, looking into her eyes, words falling from sinful kiss-swollen lips again. "…think I love you…"

There were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. "me too Sam…"

"Don't go again?" desperate plea reaching out from hopeful puppy eyes…

"You either?" a plea echoed in her own husky voice…

"Never." A promise he'd made and should have voiced days earlier.

"Me either." a promise of her own. One she would never break.

It was all he'd needed to hear. Crushing her to him again, giant arms wrapping right around her he kissed her soundly and picked her up…blankets and all.

"Wait! Hey, where're we going?"

"Kitchen, need coffee…then bathroom, need shower…then back here. Not planning on letting you out of my sight for awhile…"

Her Sasquatch was sounding suspiciously caveman-like…not that she was complaining really. She'd pretty much been thinking the same thing in reverse order. You know…bed since they were already there…then shower…then coffee…but hey, the guy had been on the road all night so she supposed a girl could allow for a little change in plans.

"Hey Fran?"

God she loved the rumble of that voice in his chest.

"Yeah?"

Arms wrapped around his neck and head resting in that comfortable spot where his shoulder met the his neck.

"I think it's only fair I warn you…"

"Warn me 'bout what hun?"

"I ever set eyes on whoever it was that hurt you they're not gonna make it out in once piece."

"You won't ever have to Sam. First two are in jail…and the other one Cal helped me take care of. They won't show their faces 'round here ever again."

"Oh"

Well now, that was a story he definitely wanted to hear. Maybe Dean could get it out of Cal, because Fran didn't look like she wanted to talk about it yet…

"Fran?"

"Yes Sam?" she was kissing the side of his neck as she answered him and it made him want to growl. He was looking at her like she was _prey _and good lord but she didn't think they'd be getting anywhere near coffee for awhile…

"Please don't answer the door in your underwear again…I'm, ah, pretty sure I'll get jealous." Honestly? He was pretty sure it wasn't a habit of hers or anything but he wanted to be positive he'd be the only one who got to see her like that.

Fran just laughed and kissed him soundly.

Yeah. This was what it was all about. Right here.

One thing was for sure, her quiet little life would never be the same again.

And thank God for that.

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**_Please review, thx: )_**


	23. Chapter 23

_Okay, so this is it. Last chapter on this one. Hope you all have enjoyed the ride LOL_

_Thanks so much to all of you who have taken the time to review! And also everyone who has taken the time to read this latest joy ride through my imagination. Hope to see you all in my other fics too. I've already started in on another sequel to this so pop on in and take a look when you've got the time. Thanks again: )__**

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_**Chapter Twenty-Three**_

One week later to the day Sam and Dean are sitting on the porch of Cal's parent's place. The haunted farmhouse outside of Ottawa successfully taken care of and they're killing time until the next hunt comes along. There's a calm here, a peace that neither has really had the chance to feel before. Dean lets out a happy sigh as he looks out toward the snow covered fields.

"So this is normal huh?"

"Haha…Yeah Dean. About as normal as we'll ever get." Dean's thinking that he was right, Fran is good for him. He's happier. There's less and less quiet brooding and a whole lot more laughter.

"Yeah, well… it's nice…"

"But…?" He couldn't fool Sam. It's been bothering him awhile and Dean knows he can't hide the 'but' anymore. Doesn't mean he'll give it up easy though.

"But nothin'"

"Dean?" Yeah, kinda figured Sam wouldn't buy it. Worth a try though.

"Okay, alright. It's just… I…"

Another sigh, this time a frustrated one. Silence falls between them as Dean tries to find the words he needs to express what's weighing so heavily on his mind. When he does find them the words are hesitant because he's worried that by putting the fear into words it might make whatever it is real.

"You, uh, ever get the feeling that this might just be the calm before the storm? You know, like this is just some twisted reprieve and maybe the really bad shit's only just about to hit the fan?"

"Yeah…I kinda do"

Dean grunts and Sam's not real sure if he's amused because he's finally being agreed with for once or upset because he doesn't want to be right. Probably a bit of both he muses.

"I don't want to lose this Sam…" and he knows exactly what Dean means.

"You won't. We won't" He wouldn't let it happen.

"We don't know that, not for sure." Dean's not that confident, might even be scared though he's not about to admit it out loud or anything.

"When have we ever known anything for sure? Look man, we're good at what we do. Cal knows what she's doing and Fran's learning fast. It's not just you and me anymore… It's the four of us. Four sets of eyes, of hands…"

Sam lets his voice trail off knowing he doesn't need to say what comes next. That Dean'll just get it, because he always does. That's the way it works between them.

_There's four of us working together now, watching each other's backs so it'll be okay. We'll lean on each other and protect each other and it'll be easier to stay alive now. To fight. _

And Dean does get it, just like he always does…and he knows Sam's right. Or would like to believe he is anyway. But really Dean's thinking: _Yeah. There's four of us now but I don't think that I can protect us all against what's out there waiting for us._ Because that's another thing Dean's always just done, and Sam…well Sam never really got how big a job that really was.

"There's a storm brewing Sam. Something big is coming at us I can feel it right down to my bones. We need to be ready when it hits us" and yeah, so maybe the fear he's feeling shows but for once he doesn't care.

"We will be Dean. We will be." And Sam believes it because he has faith.

Only Dean…well he's not so sure and that's something he can't hide from Sam. Can't even begin to try. It's in the way he moves, looks around restlessly, doesn't say anything…not even one of his usual smartass wisecracks

Then there's Cal's strong voice echoing across the yard from the kitchen behind them and as quickly as the moment was upon them it was gone.

"Hey Dean, wanna come in here and give me a hand? _Somebody_ managed to char the steak again…and _yes_, as a matter of fact that _would_ be me. You know, Martha Stewart that I am. Save the applause please while I take a bow. I need somebody to cook the rest of 'em without turning them into charcoal. You game?"

So a roll of the eyes from Dean, another happy laugh out of Sam and the Winchesters trudged back into the house headed for the kitchen and the promise of thick juicy steaks, pretty women and the warmth of home long overdue if even just for a little while.


End file.
